The Thing That Turns Heads
by Rem-Cycle
Summary: 15 years ago, deep in the bowels of the Centre, a project was created, and now it won't leave Jarod, or anyone else for that matter, alone. Rated pg 13 for violence and language. COMPLETE & REVISED!
1. Chapter 1

_Murphy's First Law: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

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The florescent white rod in the ceiling flickered off and on for a moment with a loud buzzing sound, and the girl sitting cross-legged on the bed beneath it looked up from the page of her book apathetically. It didn't flicker anymore and she returned to her reading with a shrug; someone would be down to fix it. Someone always was. She scanned a few more pages of the heavy medical text in her lap before shutting it with a muffled whump. Her disection of the cadaver that afternoon had given her ample time to familiarize herself with the procedure of her simulation tomorrow, and it appeared this text would give her little more aid. She had already spotted some alternatives and additions that would make the procedure shorter and less invasive. More profitable too. She inwardly gave a little sigh of relief; They would certainly be pleased with her for this.

She threw the book to the end of her bed, watching it as it flopped on the thin mattress and slid on the woolen blanket, slipping to land on the floor. She eyed the camera in the corner guiltily-- they didn't like it when she didn't pay proper respect for their belongings. She moved to retrieve the book, the springs creaking loudly as she shifted her weight on the bed, but she didn't mind, they always did that. It was such a constant in her life that she found it almost soothing. Her own personal lullabye. She deposited the book onto the corner of her desk, hesitating there a moment. They would want her in bed right now, but the opening to the ventilation system had caught her eye. It was in the corner of the room, and she could easily pull herself into the hatchway if she stood on her desk chair, no one would know if she went; the night crew never paid very much attention to the surveillance tapes anyway, she was sure. It wasn't going to hurt anyone; not if she was back here before they came to retrieve her in the morning. She looked at the security camera in the corner, debating with herself. She hadn't left her room to go anywhere other than the SIM lab in simply _months_. There was nothing wrong with that, not really, but her latest simulations had been leaving her bored and restless; none were very challenging. She was positively itching for something new to happen. She was sure the technicians must have noticed her disquiet, her boredom, but nothing had changed.

_You aren't supposed to leave the room without permission Riley. _The voice speaking from the back corner of her mind sounded suspiciously like Mr. Lyle, which was just enough to get her to move back to her bed and crawl beneath the covers. She sent a jaded look up at the camera. "Happy now?" It didn't respond of course, but she knew she had obeyed her training, so she took the silence to mean 'yes'. She couldn't help but allow her eyes to travel back to the vent cover though. She looked away guiltily as she heard a beep coming from her door, the sound of locks grinding against metal and concrete met her ears and she moved across the room to stand by the wall opposite it, eyes to the floor, as protocol demanded. It was good that she hadn't gone, she surely would have been caught, and if she had been caught, she would have been punished. Mr. Lyle would not have been happy with her--none of her training was more basic than that simple request to follow the rules. There would have been no excuse to disobey it, even if she _was _bored. If she only followed the rules like they told her to, things would be easier.

Riley wondered who was coming, in all likelihood it was a sweeper, come to take her to the SIM lab-- that was the only place she went these days. _And there's nothing wrong with that s_he told herself. Maybe if she just pretended it was fine, it would be. It was late though now, or at least, they'd told her to stay in bed just _hours _ago, and though simulations at night were not out of the question, they weren't common. The unvoiced sigh in her throat made her shoulders slump a little in submission; she didn't need that much sleep _anyway_.

There was, of course, another possibility, Mr. Lyle or Mr. Raines could be coming. Neither one of them had been to the facility recently, and Riley had been forced to work with the bumbling technologists on all of her simulations; an annoyance under the best of circumstances. Niether man had left her alone with them for _this _long before. Earlier that day she had thought of acting out just to see if either of them would even come back to punish her. Their absence was unnerving, it didn't happen very often to say the least. She played with the small necklace hanging at the base of her throat as she mulled it over, running her finger over the pendant at the bottom out of habit. If one of her mentors _were _coming, though it was strange for either to be absent for this long and then return without warning, she sincerely hoped it was Mr. Lyle. Mr. Lyle was better than Mr. Raines, more familiar, and much easier to work with. In truth, Mr. Raines had always frightened her.

The door opened outwards, revealing a sweeper standing outside, and her stomach dropped. She really had hoped... The sound of footsteps and squeaking wheels met her ears. The _were _back! Or Mr. Raines was, at least. Still, it was better than both of them being gone, wasn't it? Mr. Raines was strict, though. She'd just have to watch where she stepped for a little while then. She resisted the urge to squirm in anxiety. She didn't feel altogether prepared for a meeting with Mr. Raines. And if he were meeting at the facility so abruptly like this, it was likely he would be in a foul mood over something. She tried to put the implications of that knowledge out of her head.

"Hello Riley," Riley looked up when the man spoke to her, recognizing his voice instantly, and a warm sense of surprise washed over her before she squelched the burgeoning emotion. Mr. Lyle stepped into the room and was followed by Mr. Raines. She realized now that what had seemed to her like one set of footsteps must have been two. She barely managed to restrain the smile fighting to spread across her face. It seemed like forever since she had last spoken with anyone, and alone she was beginning to go stir crazy. She wanted to tell him that she had missed working with him, but in front of Mr. Raines, it would not have been appropriate.

"Hello Mr. Lyle, Mr. Raines." She answered quietly. Mr. Raines had always seemed like he could see directly through her, if she ever made a mistake he would notice it, so she immediately fell into the personality that she knew would placate him; that of a servant. "Is there a simulation I need to perform sir?" She asked, knowing he would approve the prescience of her question. Of course, there would be something they wanted her to do; Mr. Lyle wasn't opposed to just coming down to speak with her, but Mr. Raines always came with a purpose. Neither of the men answered, though she thought she saw a glimmer of satisfaction in Mr. Raines eyes after she asked the question. Good, he was pleased. Mr. Lyle's gaze left her and began roving around the small room, finally settling on the large pile of neatly stacked books at the end of her desk. She had been having trouble keeping her mind occupied.

"Ah, yes. It's so hard to find good reading material now days." He stated sarcastically, picking up a bound copy of _The Taming of the Shrew_. It was the only fictional book they had yet given her, so she hoped he wouldn't decide to take it away. He thumbed open to the dog-eared page she had read to, about three quarters of the way through the book. She'd have read further, but one of the technicians had come and given her the medical text she had just finished, and he had not let her read to the ending, hadn't even allowed her to finish the speech she'd been reading, actually.Mr. Lyle set the book back down on the top of the pile, tapping the cover with the fingers of his right hand.

"You'll want to finish reading that," He said. "It has a very good lesson for you."

"Yes Sir." She answered, subdued. Of course, she'd known they must have given her the book for a reason, but now that she was expected to glean a lesson from the text, it didn't seem as much fun. He walked over to her, tilting her head up with a finger below her chin.

"You're doing all right?" He asked as he handed her a paper cup with two tablets in it without offering an explanation.

She just nodded. She would have said more if Mr. Raines weren't in the room, but around him, her throat didn't always seem to work properly. Even saying a two-word phrase had her feeling anxious, as though he could find fault with even a simple "Yes Sir." Riley eyed the two small tablets in the cup, then downed the pills silently, swallowing them dry. The after-taste coated her tongue with bitterness, but it didn't occur to her to ask for water.

She wavered between silence and loquaciousness before finally asking "What are they?", indicating the small cup in her hand. It didn't really matter, as she had already taken them, but it was good to know what to expect.

"Just some mild sedatives, nothing for you to worry about." Mr. Lyle answered carelessly, patting her once on the shoulder, making her flinch away out of instinct. dropped his hand to his side, noticing her reaction, clearly showing that he wasn't about to hit her. She knew that-- in her mind she knew that, but her body didn't always agree.

A small warning bell went off in the back of her mind at the word sedative. The last time she had been given a sedative she had woken up in a different section of the facility under the care of a different supervisor. That had been almost a year or two ago, Mr. Lyle had left for an extended period of time and Mr. Raines was busy with other projects. Doing that many simulations under the untrained eyes of the technicians would have led to poor results. The scientist she had worked under for the time had no patience for any mistake made and often took what punishments he doled out to the extreme. Naturally she was wary of what would befall her this time. "I'm not going to be working with Dr. Cochran again, am I?" she asked thickly, fatigue wrapping itself around her mind, and the question was out before she could think of a less rude way to say it.

Mr. Lyle looked at her sternly in response, but let up after only a moment. "No Riley, you won't be working with him again, but if the need should arise, you won't question it. Are we clear?"

Riley fought against the fuzzy edges of her brain to find a suitable answer. "Uh-huh." She yawned. She blinked and her eyes stayed closed a little bit longer than usual. She jerked them back open. She wanted to stay conscious at least long enough to find out what was about to happen to her, but it was a losing battle.

"Stop fighting them Riley, just go to sleep, just relax..." Mr. Lyle's voice echoed and doubled back on itself like a sleeping python in her head as she blacked out and collapsed on the floor.

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Lyle picked up the young teenager, noting how light she was for her age. She was thin, with wiry muscles and the lean look that typically disappeared in most people after the age of seven. Lyle continued scanning her face as he and Raines left the room; large chocolate eyes, dark brown hair styled in a blunt cut that hung just above her shoulders, a thin straight nose and full lips. Pale, of course, the girl had never seen the light of day before.

_And never will..._

He thought to himself as he and Raines walked through the cold concrete hallways of the facility. This project would take him to the top, and by the time it was over, he would have not only one pretender, but two. Yes, _two_ pretenders, and their little chameleon boy would not be escaping again, this time he would stay put, Lyle would make sure of it.

The air outside the climate controlled walls of the facility was cold despite the hot summer day that had preceeded this night. Goosebumps, for what must have been the first time in her life, broke out across her thin white arms, and Riley was completely unaware. Lyle sat her down in the back seat of the standard, Centre issue vehicle, placing handcuffs around her wrists as he did so, the sweeper sitting in the back seat next to her fingered his gun a moment, nodding at Lyle before he closed the door. Lyle wasn't worried about her escaping, no no no, she wasn't like that, but Jarod was still on the loose, and that was never a good thing. What with Jarod still out there, they could not afford having her escape... or having her kidnapped. Not after that fiasco with the Gemini Project. Little did she know, but the next few months at the Centre were going to revolve around her. Why? Because Riley was special.

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Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallable. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you... 


	2. Chapter 2

_Murphy's Second Law: If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the first one to go wrong._

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"Wake up Riley."

Lyle leaned down closer to his charge; she would never let him get this close to her had she been awake.

"Wake up Riley." he said the words louder this time and was gratified slightly by the flinch that crossed the young girl's face.

"Wake up Riley." he said again, placing his hand on her shoulder. Riley exploded at the touch; bolting upright, a panicked look marring her usually calm features. He felt a thrill of a satisfaction at being able to create this kind of reaction in her; it wasn't very often that Riley's mask of subservience fell so far as to show him her true feelings, but Raines sent him a hot glare from across the room and he pulled back from the girl enough for her to calm down again. It was not as though Raines even cared one way or the other what Lyle did with Riley, but the older man was bristling under the attention of the third party in the room. Even Lyle could admit; it hadn't been wise to do that with _dear old Dad _so close by. Certainly not with the way Riley was taking it.

Riley woke up to find Mr. Lyle in her face and scrambled away quickly, pressing herself as best she could against the headboard of the bed in her new room. Mr. Lyle moved further away from her, any sign of his false smile gone. His eyes passed just beyond her and Riley turned her head to see Mr. Raines in the room. Mr. Raines eyes were hardened at her reaction; she was supposed to be afraid of them, obey them, but she was also supposed to control her emotions; Riley felt a hard ball grow in the pit of her stomach. She would pay for this transgression later.

Taking deep breaths she tried to get her heart beat under control, calming down even more when Mr. Lyle stood up from his position of sitting on her bed. His closeness to her had frightened her; Mr. Lyle only got that close to her if she was doing a SIM, or or if she was in trouble, and since she obviously was not doing a SIM, well... that sort of left the other option. Riley's eyes dropped to the blanket covering her legs. This was a bad start to the day. Someone cleared their throat off to the side to beckon Mr. Lyle away, and it was then that Riley noticed the other man in the room, and she understood Mr. Raines' reaction all the better. She'd seen this man once before, when no one thought she was looking. He had been watching her from up on the catwalks above the SIM lab a few weeks ago. He was slightly overweight, with a large mustache and white hair, balding, but what scared her about his appearance was the fact that he was looking at her like Christmas had come early.

"Get up Riley." Mr. Lyle said.

She complied readily, noticing with a small tinge of indignation that her clothes had been changed while she was asleep. Riley had never been afforded even the illusion of privacy, so she didn't know why this bothered her so much. Perhaps it was because they had been changed while she slept; during a time when she was vulnerable. It gave her a little sick feeling inside, and made her shiver. It did not matter though, it was not the first time it had been done. She knew better than to start screaming about it, as she had when it had first happened. _That _time did not even bear mentioning. In any case, she did not feel like getting on Mr. Lyle's bad side today, not when she had already lost control once.

Her head was pounding and her throat was dry. Her mouth felt like it was gagged with cotton, like she couldn't swallow. Standing up had made the headache worse, and her legs felt shaky and unstable. She hated when they sedated her like this. Riley had been taught long ago to put her own comfort on hold during simulations, and was thankful for the ability now. She locked it in a little box in the back of her mind, next to her nightmares and fears. She could bother with all of those things later. _Much later_. The world still seemed a little fuzzy, but her stomachache was slowly dissapating, which was at least one thing she could be thankful for. She looked around for the first time at the barren room they had put her in. Cinderblock walls, unlike the austere white paint that covered her old room, made the whole atmosphere of the space dreary and remote. She shivered, suddenly overtaken by an unshakable feeling of cold. It felt lonely here. "Mr. Lyle, where am I?" She asked, forgetting in her confusion to get permission before she questioned him. "This isn't my room." It wasn't her room at the facility and she hoped it would not be her room here. She didn't like it in here. She hoped he might have understood that.

He turned away from the whispering conversation he was having with the mustachioed man and waved a laconic hand, which would have been rebuff enough without the curt order that followed it. "You've been moved. Now stop asking questions."

Riley dropped her eyes to the floor immediately, avoiding the stern look he was sending her. The look that made her stomach tie in knots and her throat stick up. The look that meant he was angry or disappointed with her. "Yes Sir."

"I can see what you mean Lyle," the older man stated, obviously referring to a previous conversation. Riley wished _she _could see what he meant. What had he been saying to the other man? That she was insubordinate and not worth the time or effort? Because that was what his order had made it seem like.

"Yes, Riley is very compliant, but only to Raines and me; she'll obey others only if we tell her to."

"Very well done. Finally one that won't be traipsing off to who-knows-where without so much as a by-your-leave. Thank goodness."

"Oh we'll have absolutely no problem going through with the plan. She'll find Jarod and we'll put him back where he belongs in no time. Then it's business as usual." Lyle replied. "With _two _pretenders." He laughed. Riley noticed the hint of pride in his voice, and smiled inwardly to herself, she hadn't realized he had that much faith in her. It felt good, knowing that. "Imagine the revenue we'll get for this."

"Indeed."

Riley bit her lip, a nervous habit, and kept her gaze on the floor. It wasn't uncommon for any of her handlers to speak about her as though she were not in the room, or as though she could not hear them, but it had always given her a small measure of annoyance, being ignored like that. Or rather, being treated as though she couldn't understand them. They spent half their precious time lauding her genius, and then acted as though she were some subspecies whenever they were not in a SIM lab. But she had half a brain-- she could pick out the import in what they were saying. It was about her new project, wasn't it?

_Jarod will be back at the Centre... who's Jarod?... Why do they want him?... and the Centre... is that what this place is?_

Mr. Lyle cut her musing short as he suddnely turned and addressed her. "Riley, this is Mr. Parker; you will refer to him as such, or Sir."

"Yes Mr. Lyle." Riley acknowledged the information, looking up at the older man she had noticed earlier. Only half of her concentration was on the adults before her though, she could tell this man was a piece of the puzzle, but he was not a scientist. She would not be working with him closely, she thought, so he would not be a threat. She did not need to understand his moods, like she did with Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines. He actually seemed almost genial; but then, he was getting what he wanted, wasn't he? Riley's gaze rested again on the floor as the men turned away from her to talk in conspiratorial tones about a topic she did not know. She focused on trying to get the pain in her head to leave, but it was not working very well, as she could not keep the confusion in her mind at bay for long before another question zipped across it. She gave up in the attempt as she thought she heard a small scuttling in the vent above her; it didn't sound like a rat, it sounded... bigger... human...

That was weird, of all the conclusions her mind could have led her to... _human?_

Mr. Parker clapped his hands together as they finished talking, and Riley startled out of her thoughts.

"Well I don't see why we should not commence with the plan right now, follow me Riley."

Riley looked up quickly, alarmed, not to mention confused, by the direct interaction with Mr. Parker and looked almost unconsciously at Mr. Raines, who gave a small nod of approval, before she stepped out of the door and began following behind him. Maybe she had been wrong, and she would be working with him, since he had spoken to her? But that was strange, if Mr. Lyle was here, then she would be working with him, right? She looked uncertainly back at the man, who gave her a little encouraging wave forward before dropping deeply back into conversation with Mr. Raines. It felt weird being told to 'do for herself' like that. An insane feeling of abandonment crept into her chest; which was just foolish, right? But she had never been around people who were not constantly studying and scrutinizing _her. _And now everyone was focused on this... Jarod person. So maybe that little lost feeling chewing a nice wormhole into her heart had a right to be there after all. She decided she didn't really like this 'Jarod' very much at all.

She walked down the corridor, vaguely wondering where they were going, when Mr. Parker climbed into the elevator at the end of the hall, holding the door as she, Mr. Raines, and Mr. Lyle piled in. She watched with nervous anticipation as Mr. Parker pushed the button for one of the upper levels. And not just any level, it was _above_ ground, and that meant windows, well... probably, and windows meant a glimpse at the sky. Such an occasion was always a treat, better if she actually had permission to be there. The elevator came to a slow halt and Riley walked out. There were offices around them, she saw a sign for the tech room pointing down an opposite hall and wondered if she might be allowed to make use of it; the tech room was always an interesting place to visit. It was always busy, so no one was really looking at her. But they were not ignoring her like the men downstairs had been either, they were just all focusing on their own jobs-- the same way she did. And everyone knew each other. They told tales, shared jokes, kept little pictures of their kids next to their computers, it was a sense of... community mostly. The sort that she did not get when she was with Mr. Lyle. Of course, she was not a part of their community either, but she could be content to watch.

She was about to continue down the hall after Mr. Parker when she heard Mr. Raines' wheezing voice. "Wait Riley." She stopped obediently and turned around to walk back to her two keepers, stopping about two feet away from them. Mr. Raines and Mr. Lyle were in a discussion with Willie, a tall black sweeper she had seen plenty of times over the years. He rarely smiled, and he wasn't particularly nice, but he seemed to recognize that Riley was important to Mr. Raines-- at least as far as projects went-- so he did not treat her like dirt either. Mr. Lyle called over his shoulder to Mr. Parker to continue without them and she quickly turned her attentions to the conversation. She could not make out all the words, they were talking in low voices and she would rather prefer it if she kept her eavesdropping to a low profile, she did however hear several mentions of a 'Miss Parker'.

Her thoughts turned immediately to the man she had just been introduced to and she wondered if there was any relation there. She could not be his wife, that would make her Mrs. Parker, if her knowledge of family ties was accurate. What then? A daughter? Niece maybe? A grandaughter to that man would have been awfully young to be around here, wouldn't she... it didn't seem like a place for a child.

The next name dropped was 'Sydney'. She had nothing to go off of with that name, not even a real guess at gender. The conversation seemed to run on the lines of them being in Mr. Parker's office. Mr. Lyle looked annoyed and Mr. Raines looked nothing short of fuming. Willie scurried away, and Riley wished she could run away too, a mad Mr. Raines was a side of the man she hoped was never directed at her. Riley wondered idly what could be so wrong about these people that they could cause this sort of reaction in the two men. Mr. Lyle was massaging the decimated stump of his left thumb, a sure sign of agitation, and started off again with long, quick strides. Riley nearly had to jog just to keep up with him. Mr. Raines was still trailing the rear, pulling his oxygen tank though, so it didn't matter too much if she fell behind. Exept that he was angry too, and she didn't really want to be around _that_.

They passed the large area of the tech department, which was her first indication of how much grander the Centre was in comparison to the facility she grew up in. The area was not a tech _room _it was a tech _department. _And she knew this must really be only a fraction of what they had on staff; they were on an upper floor, which meant that the people working here were only the ones working on particularly important projects. There had been a similar hierarchy in place at the facility, only there, the further you were stationed away from the outside door, the more important you were. Riley had her own section of the place near the very back, so it just went to show you. As Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines passed by the fogged glass cordoning off the workers area, the rampant emotions of the few technologists in the office this early made her skin tingle, and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

The hall opened up into a large area with tall windows reaching in thin towers from cieling to floor. It seemed that the elevator had taken them very high up as the windows looked directly out into the sky, and she knew she would have to be looking very close up to them if she wanted to see the ground. It was strange seeing the sky as it looked in the daytime, a lighter blue than its nightime mask, and the stars she was accustomed to finding were hidden from veiw. Riley had only ever seen the sky at night, stealing brief snatches of the outside world through windows, during the few times that she had snuck out of her room at the facility. The light outside looked odd compared to the florescent bulbs she was so familiar with, not quite as harsh, though significantly brighter. She wished she could take a closer look, but this would have to do. It was certainly more of a view than she had expected to ever have the night before.

Riley's glee must have been evident to Mr. Lyle, for he placed his hand on her shoulder in warning. She tensed immediately at his touch and her gaze dropped to the floor. She was in trouble for the second time that day and she had only been awake for 15 minutes! She would need to do well today in the briefing room if she were to redeem herself. He directed her across the room, all the while squeezing her shoulder with his good hand, purposefully putting all of the pressure on her collar bone, relenting just as Riley thought it would snap.

"Behave yourself Riley." Mr. Lyle bit out, before letting go of her shoulder as they entered yet another hall with large double doors near the end.

_Ow_. "Y-Yes Sir." She stuttered, her voice shaky from the slowly receding pain. She glowered inwardly. Riley understood the need for her to control her emotions, emotions threatened a person's objectivity, but she had always disliked that she was required to check them even during those brief periods that she was not working. Rules were rules though, and if she wanted to keep out of trouble, she had to follow the rules, no matter how menial.

They had come to the end of the hall. A bench stood off to one side outside a pair of large double doors. They were made of fogged glass, and it seemed that even more of the light she had seen in the area at the end of the hallway was flooding this room. She smiled inside. There would be windows in there as well. Riley trailed after Mr. Lyle, resisting the urge to rub her throbbing shoulder, as she knew this action would only cause her further pain; Mr. Raines, behind her, would not like the show of weakness. She settled for grasping one hand in the other and clenching it tightly to focus on something else. She stepped past the empty receptionist desk and suddenly felt emotions hit her as though she had walked into a wall. She stopped short before the doors, her brain actually hurting with the emotions diffusing from the room. There were too many of them. Too loud. Too uncontrolled. Someone inside was furious. The anger hit her like a cresting wave and she had to force herself to calm down before it overwhelmed her.

Mr. Raines sped up behind her, and she heard him let out an angry little snarl. _No more anger...no more no more... _she wanted it to stop. He wrapped one annoyed hand around the back of her neck to drag her forward, jarring her so badly that she brought her hands up out of pain to grab at the sides of her head, just behind the temples. She let out one quiet whimper of pain as something audibly shattered in the room, and he let go of her almost immediately.

"Lyle." He rasped, stopping the other man short just as he was about to enter the office. "Take care of her." He said, motioning back shortly at Riley before continuing into the room.

Mr. Lyle came around in front of her, kneeling down at eye level, about an arms length away. Not close enough to strike a decent blow, so she must not be in trouble again. She could not believe she was loosing it again today in front of him; and she could not believe he was letting her. He must have known it was an emotion that was troubling her, and must have thought it was not her fault. But that wasn't right; it _was _her fault. She had been trained to deal with this and she _couldn't._ She just couldn't. It hurt too badly. She needed it _gone_.

"Make it stop. Please. Make it stop. It's too much. I-I can't--"

Through blurry, watery eyes she saw him shake his head. "Riley. I can't stop it; _I'm_ not controlling this one."

But he _had _to be. He controlled _every _one. And she couldn't take it, she needed it _gone. _"Yes you can. You have to. It hurts and I haven't done anything wrong! Please. Make it stop. Make it stop." she sobbed, her body shaking with the foreign emotions of other people.

She felt a hand on her shoulder start to steer her awkwardly off to the side, but it was not a _bad_ hand, so she let it without protest. He sat her down on a hard metal bench against the wall, again kneeling down on his haunches in front of her. She sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. For this morning and questions and the windows and I'm just-- please make it stop. I'm _sorry_."

"Riley--" He grabbed her hands away from their grip on her head and sandwhiched them between his own, as though she might end up doing damage to herself with them. "Riley, listen to me, Riley. This isn't a _punishment._ I'm not doing this. I can't make it stop. You need to work through it on your own."

No. No. She _couldn't. _She'd told him that. It was too much. She shook her head, clenching her eyes shut tight against the pain, tugging on her hands to release them from his grip, but he wouldn't let her go.

"Riley I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong. What's happening?"

"I-I _can't_--"

"Riley, it'll get better once you figure it out. You know that. You've _been trained _to know that." Lyle told her, trying to appeal to the logical side of her mind, knowing any emotive pleas or angry demands weren't going to make it through her overloaded empathic senses. She gave him a quick bob of the head, as though any more movement would cause her more pain.

"Someone'sreallyangry." she slurred, like she couldn't get in control of even her own speech, and Lyle figured that he would have to help her. Riley was a good empath, but she needed proper training; the sort that Lyle couldn't give her. He hardly claimed to be a psychologist, and the most that he ever had to go off of when training Riley was instinct and a select few DSA's of the other Centre inmates. Unfortunately, even when he _did _know what was going on, Lyle really didn't have many opportunities like these to deal with some of the harsher emotions. He could imitate them himself, and usually did when training her as an empath; which was obviously manifesting itself in this misplaced understanding that he could stop whatever was doing this. In her training, he could, and in the beginning, he often did. She had slowly built up a tolerance to feeling other people's emotions, but when something was over her head, he would often water it down a little. His sister's anger, though, only seemed to be building. Looking at the girl's face now, it was as though someone was burning her.

"Okay Riley, I want you to listen to my voice, now I want you to relax. Just take a deep breath and relax. Just calm down." He was coaching her like he always did before a simulation and it seemed to be working. She was calming down slightly, but not enough, this was always the hardest part with Riley; she was always so afraid to let go of herself, especially when she was younger, it had not been much of a problem since then, but she was still afraid that she would not be able to come back.

"Riley I need you to let go, just let go, I _promise_ you'll come back, just relax." That was it. Lyle prided himself on having been able to keep every last promise he had made to the girl. He did not make very many, and they were not always huge, but they were always _kept_. Her trust was an effective training tool for times like these; he had gotten her into the state she needed to be in, step one over.

"Good. That's it. Now Riley I want you to center your attention on the person who is angry. What are they feeling?" He asked her, keeping his voice calm, trying to calm her. He wanted to remove her just enough from the emotions of the room that she could still feel them, but was not being consumed by them. He placed a hand on her shoulder, kneaded the muscle lightly, trying to transfer some little bit of tranquility over to her. He, of course, was not actually calm at all. Not on a day like this, and not with his prize pet playing mental disorder with him; but he had a memory and he knew how to use it. That was all he needed. The feeling that happened for him just about ten minutes after one of his brides had stilled beneath his hands, around the time that he removed his fingers from around her throat. That was peace.

It seemed to do at least a little bit for Riley, because she aborted the 'make it stop' mantra for the moment. "Sh-she... Miss Parker... She's really angry and... I-I don't know-- sickened?" The voice answering him was hesitant. She was always hesitant, so afraid of making a mistake.

"Don't ask me Riley, you are the only person who can describe what she's feeling." Lyle admonished quietly, coaxing her to continue.

"She feels...b-betrayed; 'cause someone... someone close... or she thinks they're close...er.. they're going along with something she doesn't think is... good... right." Gaining some measure of confidence now, she hadn't asked his help at least, though her eyes still held confusion.

Lyle regarded this information with some worry, If Parker didn't hold her tongue in front of Riley-- there were too many things that might be said that would tell the girl more than she was ever supposed to know. The Centre could only keep control of its subjects by restraining the amount of information they held. The little freaks were raised _knowing _they were smarter than their keepers-- the Centre had to keep them dependent. Lyle was not about to lose Riley to one stupid emotional outburst.

"Good Riley, your doing this well. Now what other emotions are in the room?" He directed her away from Parker, sending her to pick up the next strongest trail of emotions she could find. This next set of emotions did not seem as volatile-- and of course not, they were probably Sydney's. The old goat surely had some strong feelings toward the project, but he would be restraining himself. And if he was restraining himself on the outside, then he would be doing the same on the inside; which scaled the problem down from a lava-spewing volcano to a rice-paddy in vietnam. The trick was just to avoid the little things that went 'click.'

"Someone else is d-disgusted... only I-I think it's with himself... he finds the...um... the subject?...interesting, but he also kinda feels like he's b-betraying someone else." Hesitating again. Halting and wanting him to tell her if she was right or wrong. So utterly dependent. Definitely Sydney's thoughts there. Poor little fence-rider _Syd, _seemed to have some barbed wire up his butt on this one. He needed to learn how to get off his high-horse and do his friggin _job._

Now to try Mr. Ambiguous himself, dear old Dad.

"That's good Riley. Now tell me what Mr. Parker is feeling." This would be good. To see if she could pick Mr. Parker's emotions away from the rest of the occupants of the room, to see if she could unravel them as well.

"I...I don't..."

Lyle almost hung his head in frustration but stopped himself and kept his tone neutral. "Just _try_ Riley, think about it, you've met him, now what is he feeling?" He persisted.

"...He's... frustrated... why won't she just cooperate! she's too much like her mother...This is all for the greater good...the project has made amazing advancements in science, the genetic engineering alone is incredible!...And with Jarod gone the SIMs she's performed are nothing short of a miracle...Why can't she see that!"

Lyle frowned in some disappointment, the differences of pretending and empathy were very slight, but it was obvious that Riley had reverted to the option she found easiest. She had pretended to be Mr. Parker just now, rather than simply analyzing his feelings, she had gotten into his head.

"No Riley, that isn't what I asked you to do. I need you to empath these people, not pretend to be them." He asserted some control back over her mind and the pretend stopped.

"I'm sorry Sir, I'm trying..." She answered him, running a frustrated hand through her hair. She looked worn out, exhausted was more the word. Thankfully her expression was not one of pain any longer, though her hands were doing some residual trembling.

"Alright," He conceded. He knew she was trying. But at the Centre, it was either do or don't, there simply was no _try. _"But you aren't working hard enough, let's see if you can do one more for me. I want you to empath Mr. Raines."

Riley's attention came back to earth with a jolt.

"You want me to what? I can't... Mr. Raines...He's...He's..." she drew her knees up to her chest, sitting with her feet on the bench, pushing away from him, a stricken look of fear on her face. "Mr. Lyle... I-I can't...Please don't make me..."

Damn. She'd been doing _well_ and then the damnable stuttering and pleading. He understood her not wanting to become Raines, Raines scared her, and it was far more obvious than she thought it was. But the fact of the matter was, he had spent the past eleven years teaching her to obey him unconditionally, and she should not even have the courage to _think_ of disagreeing, much less follow through with it. He had told her to do something; 'no' or any variation thereof was not an acceptable response.

"Riley stop!"

She stopped.

"Come here _now_." He growled at her between clenched teeth, his voice low, menacing. She was wringing her hands, biting her lip. She slipped off the bench; took one halting step forward. Another. Another. Until she was directly in front of him. Good.

"You have become men like him before, now what is _so_ different this time?" His anger was still present in his voice and she flinched almost as though he had struck her.

"Mr. Lyle... Please don't ask me to pretend to be Mr. Raines... Please...Sir...I just _can't_..."

"I'm not asking, I'm _ordering_. And I'm ordering you to empath him, not pretend; it isn't that difficult."

"...I-I... please don't make me do this...Please..." He knew she was itching to move away from him, looked about ready to cry, but she didn't. It was a good thing that she didn't too, because that was yet another thing that was against the rules, and she _did not_ want to break yet another rule today. Not in front of him.

"Riley, you do not want to upset me further than you already have." She flinched again under his livid gaze. But she was not following his order either. "Think what he is thinking Riley, feel what he feels," Lyle had not had to force her into a simulation like this in a very long time and his annoyance was evident.

"No...Don't..._Stop_." Her voice was pleading with him even as her mind began setting up the pretend.

"Stop struggling Riley." He grabbed her arms and forced her to be still. "Relax. Become Mr. Raines Riley." He demanded. "Tell me what he's thinking. What is he feeling? You _are _Mr. Raines!"

Riley stopped struggling, her face was blank again, her breathing regulated, there was no sign on her face of the struggle for dominance over her mind that had just occurred.

"Good Riley, now what is Mr. Raines _feeling_?"

"Mr. Raines is angry. The project belongs to him... someone is trying to take her... but he won't let them...he's put much too much work into the project..." She said, her voice escaping in a monotone, her eyes dull and unfocused, deeper into the pretend than she had been all morning. She probably wouldn't remember anything she had said, which was just as well, with the unguarded sorts of thoughts floating around the mercurial soup in Raines' brain.

"That's good Riley, that's very good. Now, what am _I_ feeling? What are _my _thoughts on the discussion going on in that room?" Now was Lyle's real chance to find out how good Riley's empathy ability was. "Riley, what am I thinking? What am I feeling?"

Riley felt her psyche slip and give into his gentle nudging. "You're angry; the Project has made up your life's work... It's _your_ project and you've spent more time on it than Raines ever has... You aren't going to allow _anyone_ to take her from you...And you're frustrated; someone... wasn't supposed to find out about this so soon... you don't want anything to go wrong..."

"That's excellent Riley, a perfect explanation. You're finished." He said, snapping her out of the pretend she'd slipped so far into. He wanted her to hear him, and he wanted her _lucid. _"Now what are my thoughts on the discussion going on _out here_?" Lyle looked at her unsympathetically, clearly conveying his thoughts on the subject.

Riley hung her head, focusing on the marble pattern of the tile beneath her to escape his eyes."You're angry, and frustrated. You've worked harder and longer than anyone to teach me to obey, without any questions or demands about the assignments you order me to do... I shouldn't argue with you. You don't want me to ever disobey again. I should be able to put my own feelings aside before a SIM. You should never have to force me into a SIM, and I should always do it willingly regardless of the material content...I shouldn't disobey you." Riley said in a defeated manner, reciting the lessons she had been taught as a small child.She didn't need to be a genius to know that she was in serious trouble. She looked up at him in trepidation, waiting for him to do something, or say something. She had disobeyed a direct order, surely she would be punished for such a failure.

Mr. Lyle slapped her across the face. Hard.

Riley flinched, but didn't cry out. She couldn't imagine what he would do if she did. Her head swung to the side with the force of the blow and her mind positively reeled. Her cheek stung, hurting so badly that it was nearly numb. She had to force herself not reach up to touch it. She could feel blood rushing to the area, making her face throb hotly.

"_You _never disobey me again! Do you understand?"

She didn't answer quickly enough, and he delivered another slap to her face. She recoiled, this time bringing her hand to her cheek, and feeling it burn beneath her palm. Hot tears threated to spill behind her eyes but she pushed them away ruthlessly, crying would only get her into worse trouble.

"Do... You... Understand... Me?"

"Y-Yes Sir, I-I understand." She answered more quickly this time, afraid of another blow.

"Good. Now, we'll continue this _discussion_ later. Right now, we are going down to the infirmary for some ice, I can't afford to have you walk into that room looking like you just got into a fistfight."

"Y-Yes Mr. Lyle." Riley fell into place at his side as he herded her off in the direction of the infirmary.

-

-

Inside Mr. Parker's office, things were not going much better than they had outside. Miss Parker was fuming, fuming in a way that she had not been since Gemini had come to the Centre.

"Daddy I will not tolerate this! How could you have possibly allowed him to? Did you even _know_?" Parker stalked in front of her father's desk, gesticulating wildly as she talked.

"Angel-" The older man tried to placate her, holding his palms up in front of his chest, in the universal gesture for surrender. "Now just hold on—"

"Don't you 'Angel' me daddy! Did you know that Raines had created a child pretender, _again. _And one that's _related _to us! What were you _thinking_? Were you thinking _at all?_"

Raines chose that moment to enter the room, picking up the conversation before Mr. Parker could answer. "Yes Miss Parker... Your father did know about the project...It has been one of the Centre's most important...endeavors for the past eighteen years..."

Parker glared at the bald man in annoyance that he chose that moment to show up, but turned back to her father as though the emphezema-riddled walking corpse had never entered the room. "Daddy you can't have, this is _sick_! You let him play God—_again_! Look what happened the last time he did this! Or don't you remember _Project Gemini_? You remember right? The one that helped Jarod plot _your _kidnapping so that I could go get a bullet through my back? Of course, it _was _a little while ago so _maybe _you've forgotten! Allow me to remind you; we _had _Major Charles, and then Gemini, who was _supposed _to be perfectly obedient to Charro-Bizarro over there decided to shack up--"

"Project Gemini... was working fine... until you decided to interrupt it!" Raines threw in heatedly.

"How many more screw ups are you going to allow him to make Daddy, before you stop him!" Parker continued, ignoring the comment.

"Angel, I have no intention of stopping Raines. The project is one of the most important Centre assets right now." Mr. Parker cajoled. Trying to win his daughter over with a small smile. "Without Jarod, this is almost the only project bringing in any considerable profit. The genetic engineering alone is incredible-"

"Oh yes Daddy, care to elaborate on the _genetic engineering_?" She spat the words as though they were something foul. "How about the fact that he took material from, Jarod, Angelo, and _Lyle_-" The last one came out with some incredulity, in all technicality, the girl they had created was actually her _niece_. As much as her father spoke of family ties, he seemed to have overlooked that one.

Raines interrupted her "-Lyle, happens to have volunteered."

"-and decided that he was going to combine them to create Frankenstein's friggin' grandaughter! And you!" Parker turned to look at Raines, "How badly did you decide to screw _it_ up? What is your precious project this time? I mean you already have a psychopath, a sociopath, an empath who may as well be _cata-_blinking_-tonic_-"

"The project, is a natural pretender, like Jarod... there was no need to use other methods-"

"Yeah like frying her brains into yesterday's eggs?" Parker uttered the sentence just loud enough for the room to hear, rather than yelling it. She knew this would get a better reaction.

"Angel, before you decide to continue your little...tirade... maybe you could let him explain-" Her father tried once more to get her to listen.

"He can try, but he will _never_ justify this." Her face was filled with contempt as she eyed the man.

"Well Raines, I think you should at least tell her about it."

Raines wheeled further into the room, and though he did not bother hiding the contemptuous look he was throwing at Miss Parker, he _did _begin explaining. "The project is an empathic pretender... whose skills in those areas rival... both Jarod and Angelo's own...it has been raised in an environment... almost identical to Jarod's... with a few differences-"

"Namely you and Lyle."

"It has ground rules!... that it is not allowed to cross... The project has been taught to obey..."

Parker thought of mimicking him, 'The project is taught to obey...,' in a high pitched falsetto, but decided against it. Even so, she couldn't quite contain her look of disgust every time he called the girl 'it'. Nevermind that she had been doing it only a few moments before.

Sydney finally spoke up from where he was standing against the wall. "Obey?"

"Yes Sydney... obey... as in, if I tell it _not_ to run away...it won't!"

Sydney ignored the implied insult, catching the message behind the words and commenting on those instead. "But only if _you_ say so?"

"I knew you couldn't be as stupid as you look..." Raines brushed him off snidely. "That is another one of the benefits... to the disciplinary method that has been devised... Absolute control... for one or two people... A way to ensure that someone like _Jarod_, or another company, doesn't gain control..."

"Oh well that's convenient." Parker quipped from where she was standing. Imagining Raines' 'disciplinary' methods had nearly made her nauseous, now she just wanted to rip his throat out. "Mind control, through torture! That's all it is! A new experiment in _mind control._" She turned angrily towards her father. "And you _allowed _this! You allowed him torture a little girl! How could you let him use those _methods?_"

"Mr. Raines is allowed to use those methods, because they _work._" He replied with a voice of steel, cold eyes turned against his daughter.

"Parker," Sydney said her name, attempting to calm the fiery young woman down, "If you were listening you would know that this project is obviously a bit more than just a mind control game-"

"Don't tell me you agree with this Syd! Look at your flippin' forearm--You out of anyone would know that you can't control people like that-"

"I never said I agreed with these methods Parker, but if the experiment is really as extraordinary as Mr. Raines proposes it to be than wouldn't you say that it could probably be an amazing asset to the search for Jarod?" Sydney said, uttering the last bit of the sentence with a questioning look towards Raines. Showing him how easily he had caught onto the game they were playing.

"Which is exactly... what we will be having the project do. Now... if you'll excuse me for a moment... I'd like to begin the assignment... _before Jarod finds out about it_."

-

-

"I-I--" Riley slowly mustered up the courage to speak around him again. "I-I didn't mean--"

"Don't tempt me Riley. You were better off silent."

She dropped her eyes back to the ground, playing with the ice pack between her hands.

"I-I'm really sorry--"

"As well you should be. There's no excuse."

"No Sir."

"You had better be thankful if I don't mention this to Mr. Raines," he said, irately grabbing up the ice pack and holding it against her face until she brought up own hand to hold it in place. The ring on his hand had split open a small cut against her cheekbone-- they were high, like Jarod's-- so it really didn't matter if Lyle told the older man or not, because he was bound to notice the evidence. Which meant that everyone else would as well. Aside from relieving pain, pain which she _deserved_ at the moment, the ice pack was practically useless. He reached over and wordlessly dumped it in the trash.

"You aren't gonna tell him, are you? P-please, I'm _really_ sorry--"

"Quit _whining_. That includes all forms of begging and crying."

Riley and Mr. Lyle were sitting on the bench outside the office again. After their 'discussion,' _wasn't that much talking really..._he had lapsed into almost total silence, refusing to even look at her. It hurt too. Riley may have been afraid of Mr. Lyle on many different levels, but he was the only companion she had known in a long time, She had seen him almost every day, directing her in SIMs and just checking up on her in general, and most of the time he was friendly, she usually didn't give him a reason not to be.

_I shouldn't have reacted like that...I should have obeyed _

He was much easier to handle than Mr. Raines. She had hardly ever seen _him_ for more than 30 minutes at a time, and he only showed up maybe once every two or three weeks. Mr. Raines would come in the evening, check her progress, which there was usually an obscene amount of, and then talk to her for 5-10 minutes maximum about what her work was and what she might be doing soon. It was odd that this new assignment had never once come up, but they obviously wanted everything to happen so fast that she wouldn't be able to think about it much.

The squeaking of wheels hit her ears and she stood up quickly as Mr. Raines opened the door to the office from the inside.

"Come in, and we'll begin briefing you on your new assignment."

Riley nodded her understanding and marshaled her confidence around her. She hoped that false bravado would suffice for the time being because that was all she seemed to have. Squaring her shoulders, she walked into the room. She was almost certain Mr. Raines had seen the cut on her cheek-- it was hardly hidden-- and she shirked in habit out of the way of his hands, just in case. She heard Mr. Lyle get up to follow her, but as she passed into the room the door behind her swung abruptly shut against the two men outside.

-

Raines grabbed Lyle by the arm as he made to pass him, moving forward so that the door swung shut in front of them. "Did you have a _problem_ out here?"

Lyle jerked his arm out of the other man's grasp, straightening his jacket and tie out of habit. "Everything's been settled, I have the situation under control." He assured, avoiding any discussion of the matter by following his project into the office. Raines and his squeaking wheels tailed him closely.


	3. Chapter 3

_A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy? -- Albert Einstein_

* * *

Riley entered the room cautiously; her brave façade slipping as she unconsciously gave in to her nervousness. She hated meeting new people; it was enough of a rare occurrence that she hardly had any people skills. This coupled with the fact that very few of the people she had met brought with them good events hardly improved her feelings on the matter. 

She allowed herself a restrained glance around the office. Mr. Parker sat behind a large desk across from her. There was a doorway off in the corner of the room, but it probably only held a washroom. The only escape from this room was the door she had entered by. Of course, Riley couldn't have run away even if there _was _a way out; but she still liked the illusion of having a choice in the matter. Two people were standing off to her immediate right, a young woman and an older man. The woman looked to be Mr. Lyle's age, and the man slightly younger than Mr. Raines, but older than Mr. Parker. Mind you, it was hard to gage, considering that Mr. Raines had no hair and was living off what could be termed life support. She gave up trying to discern their respective ages, that wasn't what she was here for after all.

The first thing that struck her as she entered was the noise; she had never heard any two people be that loud before in her life. The woman was yelling at Mr. Parker, the man she had met only a little while ago, and he seemed to be trying to pacify her-- with absolutely no luck. It was a good thing that Riley had managed to restrain her empathic abilities for the moment, because if she hadn't, coming into this room would have landed her in even worse pain than she had felt out in the hallway. As it was, the hairs on the back of her arms and neck were standing at attention, and her nerves felt as though they had been rubbed raw. She stifled the urge to place her hands over her ears, and tensed up every time the woman opened her mouth to speak. She was reminded at that moment that her head was still aching dully from the sedatives she had been given.

"Daddy I will not tolerate this!"

"Angel, we already discussed this. This project is going to help return Jarod to the Centre, and if I'm not mistaken our deal says that when you catch Jarod, _you_ are free to go, I thought you'd be ecstatic over this." The man sounded placating, though Riley knew from the emotions she could read off of him, that he wasn't really worried so much about what his daughter thought of the subject, as what she was going to do about it. He was angry on the inside. Anxious on the inside.

"You let the _Marlboro Man_ out there create life! _Human _life! Daddy this isn't right."

_What's a Marlboro Man?_

-

-

Sydney watched the young pretender enter the room, looking over her appraisingly.She was around five foot nothing with dark hair and eyes. He could easily pick out several of Jarod's more predominant features. His eyes for one, but while they were the same in the physical sense, her eyes held none of Jarod's arrogant playfulness; instead they showed an odd blend of fearful curiosity. It was strange seeing an expression in those eyes that he doubted he had ever seen in Jarod's. Indeed, as she watched Parker yelling with her father she looked nothing short of terrified. Her muscles were tensed, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise, eyes wide in fright. Her fight or flee instinct looked as though it were about to kick in at any moment. As he scanned her over he noticed a red mark spanning across her cheek, and was reminded of what Raines had said about obedience. He frowned darkly at the thought of what might have happened. He watched as she instantaneously seemed to take in her surroundings, eyes flickering from the large window behind Mr. Parker's desk, to the pair fighting in front of it.

"Ahem, Parker." The man whom Riley could only assume was Sydney (as he obviously wasn't a _Miss_ anything) drew her attention away from the heated argument and pointed out Riley's entrance into the room. It was then that she noticed he had been staring at her since she had entered. Everyone was looking at her. Riley paled slightly at the sudden attention but held her ground... barely... just barely held her ground. _Where was Mr. Lyle? _She needed him in here. Especially since Miss Parker seemed to become even more infuriated with Riley's simple _appearance_ if her look was anything to go by. Riley took an unconscious step backward. Something within her told her that if she were really as smart as she was _supposed_ to be, she would be running away right now. Fast. It was unusual enough for Riley to meet anyone outside of Mr. Raines and Mr. Lyle, but here she was, alone, in a room with three new people, one of whom looked like she wished Riley nothing but illness. Riley was really beginning to contemplate the idea of just running away, direct order or not, Miss Parker was scary. She placed a neutral mask on her face however and calmed down upon hearing Mr. Lyle enter behind her, Mr. Raines on his heels. She turned around as she saw them enter, the terror of moments before forgotten. Mr. Lyle walked up behind her and with a nudge at her back, ignoring the instinctual tense of muscles at the touch, maneuvered her over to a chair in front of the desk.

The chair was wide and cushioned, the kind people were meant to sit back and sink into. Riley had to sit at the edge of the seat so that her feet would still touch the ground. Every one of the adults in the room was scrutinizing her, and she wished they wouldn't. She didn't know what they were looking for, and she didn't know how to give it to them. In particular she could feel Sydney staring at her down a crooked nose, boring holes in her face. She wished she could turn and meet him eye to eye, maybe say something to get him to back off, but such disrespect was sure to land her in the infirmary. She had to remind herself that she was here to receive an assignment, she didn't have time to wonder about the peculiar behavior of some of the other people in the room. Still, throughout the time she sat there his eyes never left her; as if he were searching for something he thought was lost.

"If you two don't mind... we have _business _to discuss." Riley didn't have to turn around and look at him to see that Mr. Raines was motioning for the man and woman to leave the room, or know that he was glaring at them as though he could remove them by sheer force of will.

"If you think for even an instant, that I'm leaving this room, then you--"

"Parker," Mr. Lyle moved between the verbally sparring adults, lowering his voice a bit, and looking back at Riley. "This doesn't concern you."

"The hell it doesn't!" She roared and Riley flinched in her seat as a lancing blow of the pain she had been feeling out in the hallway shot through her head. She clenched her hand in her pant leg and fixed her focus on a point just outside the window. That was a cloud. An actual _cloud. _It reminded her of nothing she had ever seen before, but it looked soft, or like it ought to be soft, even though she knew it was just a collection of rain droplets waiting to fall. The emotions in the room shifted and Riley realized the infernal woman had stopped yelling. Resentful feelings were practically oozing off of Mr. Raines though, so it seemed as though she would be staying.

"Well," Mr. Parker began, rubbing his hands together. Riley faced him, attentive and interested in learning about her newest assignment, just as they had trained her to be. "Let's begin."

_Way to get to the point _she thought irately. And she _wanted _them to get to the point. The sooner they did, the sooner she could get out of this room.

Mr. Raines voice turned her attention to him. "Riley, this is Dr. Sydney and Miss Parker; you're going to be working together for a while." She noticed that he hadn't followed that up with the two-bit 'respect them or die' that accompanied every other introduction he had ever given her before. She wondered if the oversight was because he was angry, or because he really didn't care for her to give them her obedience. She also had to wonder how long 'a while' was. Her regular assignments weren't very long usually. The longest simulation she could remember she had finished in a matter of days, and Mr. Raines had been angry with her for not finishing it more quickly.

"You're assignment is to track down and devise a strategy to capture a Pretender named Jarod."

She felt like she'd been dumped in a bucket of ice water. _Capture a Pretender? _But how? _Why? _If she had to recapture him, then he must have left the Centre of his own choosing. Was he _insane? _Why would he ever want to do something like that?

"Wonder-boy ran away 4 years ago." Miss Parker quipped.

_He'd stayed outside for four **years**. And why hadn't they gotten him back yet? Surely they had been trying_?

"You will be provided with information on his years in and out of the Centre over the next couple of weeks." Mr. Lyle began where Mr. Raines had left off.

_Weeks?_

"You are going to learn more about him progressively over that time, starting with his childhood, and ending with his adulthood now. You will also be helping the recapture unit when you aren't working a SIM. Miss Parker and Dr. Sydney are part of that unit. Any questions?"

_Where do I begin?_

"You did say that this... Jarod...is a Pretender, right?" _Like me_?

"I thought you said she was intelligent." Miss Parker shot over Riley's head towards Mr. Raines.

Riley felt resentment peak around Mr. Raines and resisted the urge to sink down into the chair. He would probably blame _her_ for Miss Parker's slight. She chewed her lip as the two adults seemed to try to kill each other through sheer force of will. Maybe if she kept chewing on her lip she could swallow herself... that would certainly get rid of the problem.

_You know, the faster you answer my questions the faster you can rid yourself of my presence _Riley thought of telling her. Instead she opted for the marginally less rude, "Can I take that as a yes?" Riley could tell that Mr. Lyle still wasn't quite satisfied with her paltry attempt at cooling the tension, but he didn't seem angry, so she hoped the mishap would be forgotten.

Riley rushed into the next part of her question quickly, without waiting for an answer. She knew that it would irritate Mr. Raines, but she also needed to know the answer. She couldn't allow them to negate her request yet.

"How exactly am I supposed to become, _be_, a person who doesn't know how to _be_ himself?" Miss Parker raised an eyebrow at her question. Mr. Lyle was giving her a similar look and she decided she ought to explain herself further. He obviously thought that she was trying to disobey again, and she really didn't want to make him any madder than he already was. She was definitely pushing it today.

"I mean, one of the basic principles to a good pretender, and I'm assuming he's a good pretender if you want him back so badly, is that they don't have much of a core personality, and that they have the ability to change that core personality to fit another persons. So how am I supposed to latch onto his core personality if he _doesn't have one_?"

Mr. Lyle moved around to lean against the edge of the desk, facing her. "You aren't the first person to think of that problem." He said, looking coolly past her to Mr. Raines. _So they'd fought over this? _Riley knew her keepers rarely agreed on anything, especially when it involved her, but their choice of simulations usually wasn't one of them. "We are going to have you do some of the same simulations he did while at the Centre,_ I_ don't expect the way you find the answers to be the same the first few times, but there should be similarities between them, seeing as there should be only one correct conclusion you can reach." Riley would have had to be deaf in order to miss the unspoken _and you'd better reach it._

"You will be allowed to view his simulations after you perform them. I expect you can unravel how thinks--by the end of this you should know him as well as he knows himself. You will then SIM his recapture. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but I... I do have a few more questions." Part of her hoped he wouldn't let her ask them; insist that she had all of the information necessary, because she knew her questions would not be met by a happy audience.

"Go ahead." _Of course. Just so long as it applies to the simulation, I'm allowed to talk all I want._

She took a breath, settling her gaze to look at a spot just below his eyes, so she wouldn't have to meet them. "For how long did he live here?"

Mr. Lyle seemed to play with the idea of telling her for a few moments. Riley hoped the man thought what she was asking pertained to her simulation; she was more likely to get an answer from him that way, she knew she was pushing it though. It didn't really, not in such a way that she thought it could affect the simulation, but she was still curious. Something was warning her that things here weren't all what they seemed, and she had learned over time that if there was something they weren't telling her, it was usually rather significant. Finally Mr. Lyle seemed to come to his decision, sending her something of a subdued look of suspicion, one that she caught, though no one else seemed to.

"About thirty years. Why?"

Riley knew that he had caught her out, though she tried to present her reasoning in a way that would sound applicable to the SIM, if only to save face. Riley understood that her behavior reflected directly on her keepers, and it simply wouldn't do to seem rebelious like this in front of the others in the room; it would look as though Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines couldn't control their own subject- and that was never good. She swallowed before speaking, making up an excuse on the spot.

"Well it's just that, if someone has spent their whole life in one place, they tend to become familiar with it. So if he was here for thirty years... something had to have happened to make him leave. Something must have really unnerved him to make him leave the one place he has ever known..." She paused there, leaving the sentence hanging, letting them figure out what she was asking without actually having to say it. She had basically just accused the people in this room of forcing him to run away... had just said 'someone messed up and made him want to leave'... it seemed that she would be pushing it if she added on the final, accusatory, _so what happened?_

Then again, going by the look she was now receiving from _every _person in the room, it didn't seem to matter that she had left the end off anymore, they all seemed to know exactly what she was saying. Even the little metal bunny rabbit on the desk looked like it was glaring at her.

"I'm not at liberty to tell you that right now Riley," Mr. Lyle said, and she could tell from the tone of his voice that he was uneasy. And that he was displeased by her impudence. She wished now that she hadn't asked the question.

"Are those all of your questions?"

Riley quailed slightly under his muted glower. "I... I actually... I have one more."

"Fine." He gave her a pointed look and she began to second guess the question she was about to ask, she had already angered him enough for one day.

"What's gonna happen when I bring him back?" She asked quickly. Riley knew what would happen to her if she escaped (not that she'd ever want to) and had the misfortune to be found, and she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of bringing Jarod back if all they were going to do was thrash him as a form of 're-education'. It seemed like... a waste.

"-If you bring him back." Miss Parker shot her a disbelieving look.

_There's only so many places he can hide Lady, I'm bound to find him at some point._ Riley wanted to return, but she restrained her tongue at the last moment. Still, the statement _had _been stupid; really, it was absurd to think that she wouldn't find him. If Riley didn't locate and capture this man Jarod, the only person paying for it, would be her.

"Actually, I...uh... I sort of did mean _when_..." Riley said, not meeting the woman's eyes.

"When you bring him back," Mr. Parker said, "He will be put to work on SIMs like he should have been doing for the past four years. Jarod belongs here. He is the property of the Centre, just as you are. He should never have left in the first place."

_Put to work on SIM's_... Riley wondered skeptically if she was actually supposed to believe that.

"Has you curiousity been satisfied now, Riley?" Mr. Lyle asked her and Riley just nodded, understanding that his question was a warning. _You are crossing a line into insolence Riley... Do not make me punish you. You will not like it. _

"Good. Then I think we're done here." Mr. Lyle got up from his seat and Riley mimicked him, heading for the door. She wanted to go to her room and sleep, maybe get rid of the headache pulsing between her temples.

"Lyle-" Dr. Sydney called out after them, and surprisingly, Mr. Lyle _did _turn around to wait for whatever the older man had to say. Riley stopped over by the door, anxious at the prospect of finally being able to leave. The morning had been more eventful than her last month at the facility, and she was still reeling from it.

"I was just wondering if I could have a word with Riley in my office for few moments." The older man asked, hands coming up to his jacket pockets casually, as though he were proposing they take the stairs instead of the elevators, because they offered better exercise.

Mr. Lyle walked over to him to make the discussion more private. Riley watched him go with a slightly disappointed feeling growing in her stomach. She hoped he'd forbid it, she hoped he'd tell Dr. Sydney to go lose himself down in the renewal wing where no one could find him, because in all honesty, she did not feel up to dealing with a psychiatrist. She didn't feel up to measuring her words, or watching him take notes as he asked her about her _feelings._ She didn't feel up to lowering her defenses in front of a person she didn't know, long enough to cooperate with them, and she didn't feel up to having her mind scoured by a complete stranger. She most certainly did not feel up to receiving the same psychiatric evaluation, like all the others, that she was a withdrawn, hostile, painfully shy young person who desperately needed traumatic counseling.

Waves of irritation and anger were sweeping off Mr. Lyle as he talked with Dr. Sydney, and if he thought that moving not three feet away would stop Riley from hearing the older men speak, he was sorely mistaken. He paused a moment, shifting from one foot to another in a way that Riley recognized. He was trying to decide, which meant he wasn't going to outright forbid anything. He was _considering it. _"Make it either my office or Miss Parker's office and I don't see the harm."

"Afraid she'll find something in my office by transcendentalists and have an epiphany of free thought?"

"No, just afraid you might have dismantled the camera in your clock. So _slip_ the Freudian discussion over to another room and I'll allow it--but keep in mind that the topic of this little chat had better be something I would approve of, because if it isn't-"

"The topic of discussion will meet with your approval. I merely want to get to know her better."

Lyle could have growled. If he refused, it would signal to Parker that he was hiding something about Riley from them. That would never do-- it would only cause Parker to go snooping around. The shrink had him cornered and he knew it.

"Fine, alright, talk to her, but keep it brief, no two hour sessions, she has a SIM to perform this afternoon before we get too deep into this latest venture."

"Lyle, he's a psychiatrist—" Miss Parker shot from the other side of the room "by all outward purposes he's just going to ask her a question and then mumble 'uh-huh" and 'how does this make you feel?' how much damage could he _possibly_ do?"

Riley could have laughed. She'd had enough profiles done by men like Dr. Sydney to know that it was quite a bit more complicated than that.

"Alright, Riley, Dr. Sydney would like to talk with you before this afternoon's SIM, I want you to go with him and Sydney," He said, turning back to the older man, "Have a sweeper direct her back to her room when you two are finished."

With that Lyle walked out of the door. Upon catching up with Raines he told him what a transpired in the office and made sure Willie would be watching on the security monitors. If _anything _happened in that office, Sydney would pay, he'd make sure of it.

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Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallible. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you... 


	4. Chapter 4

_Murphy's fourth law: If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which something can go wrong, and circumvent these, then a fifth way, unprepared for, will promptly develop._

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Sydney walked slowly over to the lone youth standing in the doorway of the room, leaning towards the fogged glass like she would rather be anywhere but there. Upon reaching her, he crouched down until they were at eye level, "Hello Riley, my name is Sydney, it seems that we'll be working together for a while." Standing up again, he shook off the feeling of foreboding that accompanied those specific words. This would not be another Gemini Project. "If you would follow me, I'd appreciate the chance to get to know you better." He offered genially, pushing open the door for her. 

The girl bobbed her head shortly in understanding and Sydney reached out to place his hand on her shoulder to lead her out of the room; a habit left over from Jarod's days at the Centre. Jarod had always been desperate for human contact as a child, and it had been Sydney's own way of accommodating him. The cameras hardly allowed him to do more. Sydney was more than a little surprised though when she shirked back from him, biting her lip, and looking as though frightened. It stunned him, because Lyle had gotten close enough to touch her on multiple occasions that morning, and _had_ done so too, and she hadn't seemed outwardly bothered by it at all. She looked even more surprised than he by the quick movement, and Sydney thought bitterly that Raines would probably skin her alive for shying away from him. The girl was probably expected to just stand there and take it like a dumb animal. He flinched inwardly and let his hand drop back to his side.

Raines had never approved of the amount of leeway Jarod was allotted during his childhood. He had constantly been requesting that a method of discipline be enforced on the boy. Sydney had, of course, been adamant against any such thing occurring. As the years went on and Jarod grew older, Raines' demands had become more infrequent. At the time, Sydney had thought of it as a blessing. He realized now that Raines had probably found, or _created_, a new experiment to try it on.

Stepping back a bit, so as to appear less threatening, Sydney motioned for Riley to precede him out of the large double doors and down the hall to the elevators. She did, relaxing just a little bit when he didn't move closer than an arms length away, even as he fell in stride with her. Riley looked around curiously as they walked, seemingly trying to find all of the new things that she had never seen before. Sydney watched her closely as they entered the lobby area of the floor. These areas always seemed to house the windows that never made it to the lower floors where the research subjects were kept. They gave an abundance of natural light to the tower, giving their clients the impression of a clean, efficient, place of business. Unfortunately, the ruse only worked too well; certainly in Jarod's time here the simulation requests had come in droves. However, upon entering the large lobby area at the end of the hall, the area that had Jarod bouncing off the walls in childish pleasure, she didn't show any outward sign of happiness at the crisp morning sun pouring in. Then again, maybe Raines didn't allow her to show that kind of emotion. In fact, she dropped her eyes down to the tiled floors, as though avoiding any temptation to look outside.

"So Riley, what do you think of this latest assignment?" Sydney began making conversation on their way into the elevator. He had a special reason for choosing this elevator, the one that was almost synonymous with Catherine's death; he wanted to test the girl's skills of observation. The youngster's chocolate colored eyes, so much like another pretender he knew, flicked immediately to the bullet hole in the back wall, before moving up to Sydney's face.

"I-I don't really know what to think... I've n-never done this sort of SIM b-before... and..." She told him, aborting the answer to just shrug her shoulders. He'd noticed the stuttering in Mr. Parker's office as well, though then he had attributed it to the caustic glare Lyle had been servicing her with. Sydney was doing no such thing now, and couldn't help but wonder at the apparent nervousness.

"Am I frightening you, somehow?" He asked, hoping to elicit a longer response.

"No." Well, so much for that bright idea.

"You seem... anxious. You're stuttering-- I didn't think Mr. Raines would allow that sort of thing."

"He _doesn't_." She said, folding her arms defensively in front of her, she took a step back from Sydney, then another, until she ran out of room in the small elevator. "I'm not afraid. I-I just don't talk right sometimes. So, sorry."

"You were going to say more, about the simulation. What was it?"

"Just... that I-I've never done this before; a project where I'm the same person over and over again. It sounds like I'll be reliving his life, al-all of the experiences that shape him into what he is t-today."

Sydney hadn't liked that aspect of the pretend either. Jarod, an intensely secretive person by nature, would see this as a gross invasion of privacy-- a veritable raping of his mind and soul. The guilt of knowing it was going to occur, and still doing nothing to warn the young man, left Sydney ill-at-ease.

"I-I guess I'm just hoping I do it correctly. The SIMs I've done to track down other...other people have always been interesting; the clues they leave behind can act as a... completely different way to get inside their head." Riley told him, something akin to eagerness bubbling below the surface, though she hid it well. She seemed to enjoy her work at the Centre in a way that Jarod had never shared.

Sydney watched her curiously as the elevator ground to a halt and they stepped off. Her attention had turned back to the matter of where they were going, though for the last few floors inside the elevator, it seemed as though the whole world to her was made up of that tiny hole in the back. Sydney couldn't for the life of him imagine why they hadn't repaired it yet. But as much as she had examined it back there, she had yet to say a word.

"You seemed mighty interested in something in that elevator." Sydney invited her question.

"Do you know where the bullet hole came from?" The question had fled from her mouth almost before he had finished speaking. The girl stopped rather suddenly once her sentence was finished, as though surprised by her own rudeness at nearly interrupting him. She swallowed and continued when Sydney gave no sign of dissatisfaction in her behavior, this time allowing her sentence out more slowly. "It's ob-obvious that someone was shot, but..." She let her sentence hang.

"A woman who worked here, a _good_ woman who worked here, was murdered in that elevator." Sydney said seriously, making sure he caught her eyes as he said it.

"You kn-knew her?" Riley asked him quietly.

"Oh, very well. Catherine was a good friend of mine, but if you know what is good for your health you won't mention this conversation to Miss Parker. She won't be altogether too pleased." He told her seriously, though affording the girl a small smile to reassure her of her position on stable ground, at least with him. He wished he could show her that it was perfectly alright to be curious, but he was afraid of what she might allow to slip out in front of Raines or Lyle. Neither of the two men would have been nearly as forgiving as he, and things as they were, it seemed safer for the girl if he did not interfere too greatly with what her training demanded.

"Mr. Lyle wouldn't be pleased either." Riley muttered as they reached the doors to Miss Parker's office.

"I can imagine."

Riley followed Dr. Sydney into the room, discreetly observing her surroundings. The office was arrayed in bold, dark, colors that could also easily belong in a man's office, but the furniture in the room had a streamlined effect that showed that it belonged to a woman. There was a desk near the back of the room, a leather couch and two chairs near the front. Dr. Sydney indicated for her to sit, and she sank into the overstuffed armchair as instructed, allowing her feet to come up off the floor this time. She didn't like that he'd called her scared, because she wasn't; she wasn't allowed to be scared. Settling in properly seemed like it might change his mind.

"Well Riley, tell me about yourself." Sydney prompted her to start talking.

Riley's mind froze momentarily at his words. She didn't think anyone had ever actually made that request to her before, and naturally, she had no idea where to begin. What if she said something wrong? Was this a test?

"Is there anything sespific..._specific _you'd like to know Sir?" She asked him timidly, hoping for a better clue of how to respond.

"First of all, you can call me Sydney," he told her with a small chuckle "And secondly I just want to know more about you. What do you enjoy doing? What do you do to relax?"

Riley's eyebrows met in a sort of confused furrow. "There... There really isn't much for me to do when I'm not SIMing." She answered truthfully. "I was allowed to play chess once, but I haven't been given the opportunity to play since. Once the study was over I don't think Mr. Raines saw any point in having me play again." She told him bluntly, and Sydney was surprised by how well she seemed to recognize the fact that she was constantly being manipulated. "Sir?"

"Yes?" Sydney almost sighed in exasperation; she was never going to call him by his first name, was she?

"May I ask _you_ a question?"

_My, but isn't someone getting bold..._

"Feel free to ask anything Riley, you don't need permission."

Riley frowned at his answer in a confused manner, but plowed on with what she had wanted to say anyway. "Did you..or..uh.. _do_ you, know Jarod? You just... seemed pretty...erm... emotional, before I came in the room."

Sydney paused before answering. "I do know Jarod. I raised him actually; I acted as his mentor, much as Mr. Lyle does to you, with some minor changes." It looked to Riley as though he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. She wondered what it was that he wasn't voicing.

"I don't mean any disrespect Dr. Sydney, but... well... wouldn't the pursuit go better if the team were made up of people Jarod didn't know very well? P-people he wouldn't be able to m-maneuver?"

Sydney leaned back in his seat. Oh, she was definitely raised by Lyle-- he even had her thinking like him. "I can see your point Riley, in fact there are many people who rather I would not be on the team, Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines among them, but the connection between Jarod and myself can go both ways."

Riley gave him a puzzled look "H-How?"

At least _she, _unlike others, was open to explanation.

"Because of that emotional connection, Jarod keeps in touch with us, outside of me, the only reason he has to do that is because the answers to his questions are all here, at the Centre. And for that matter, if all he wanted from the Centre were answers, he could probably just break in and find them, but he knows too many people here, gets involved in too many situations here, and he becomes careless." Sydney carefully avoided adding that Jarod also had such a connection with Miss Parker. Let that come out when it would.

Riley nodded her head in understanding before voicing her next thought. "What s-sort of questions?"

"What drives, what motivates Jarod, is the secret of who he is. Jarod has been slowly piecing back together the family he had before coming here."

_The family that was taken from him, _Sydney had wanted to say, but he knew that if he were to tell her anything like that it would only cause problems.

"If his answers are all in a place he doesn't want to be, then w-why bother asking the questions? I think... I think if I ever staged an escape like he did... I'd just put as much distance between here and myself as I could. N-not that I p-plan on leaving... wouldn't work anyway." The last part of her sentence was muttered under her breath, but Sydney caught it in spite of this. His interest piqued as she said that, the way she was looking determinedly at the floor suggested that she didn't fully agree with what she was saying, like the thoughts were forced into her head, and truth be told they probably were. Looking back, Sydney couldn't remember Jarod ever giving up hope that he would be able to leave the Centre at some point, to lead his own life, to govern himself.

_I wonder..._

"Why wouldn't it work Riley?"

Riley maintained her hard stare at the floor. "It j-just wouldn't."

"You can hardly say that if you haven't tried."

Her eyes stayed determinedly down on the floor as she choked out again, "_It wouldn't_."

Sydney sat forward at that, moving around in front of the desk to kneel down in front of the Pretender. He wished she would look up so he could see her eyes. "You've tried."

The young girl's head shot up in surprise "N-No I d-didn't!"

"Really?" Sydney gave her an incredulous look that said all too clearly that he didn't believe her.

"I-I don't want to talk about it." Riley mumbled to the floor "It's not important. I'm never doing _that_ again."

Parker threw the doors of her office open wide at that moment and walked inside, her gaze resting on the young teenager sitting in one of her favorite chairs.

"So Syd, I thought Lyle said no two hour sessions, when do I get my office back?"

Dr. Sydney shrugged with a small smile and Riley watched their interaction carefully.

"When Lyle or Raines decides I've ruined their project enough for one day. If you really want it back I have absolutely no problem moving back to mine as long as you promise to tell Raines that _you_ kicked us out."

"Syd, I'm not crazy, and I'm not suicidal... not this early in the morning."

Riley watched the banter between the two colleagues curiously. She couldn't imagine Mr. Lyle or Mr. Raines ever speaking like that to one another. The idea of them doing any such thing was ridiculous. The phone suddenly gave a piercing ring, causing Riley to jump in her chair, and Miss Parker picked up the receiver and answered with a "What!" This didn't seem to line up with most of what Riley knew about proper phone etiquette, but she might be wrong... Riley watched as Miss Parker put the phone on speaker.

"My, but somebody's having a bad day," A cheerful voice on the other end of the line answered her "It's a bit early to start in on the vodka, don't you think?"

"Which is why I was about to get an _Advil_. Please Jarod just get it over with, tell me what you want me to know then hang up, we all know that you will eventually."

"Oh so suddenly I can't just call in to check on my favorite stalkers?"

"No Jarod, you can't."

"Geez, why don't you just say that you don't want me to call anymore? I won't. But don't expect anymore clues either." He said teasingly.

Miss Parker caught his tone easily and retorted in a taunting manner of her own. "But if I didn't have anymore clues then I wouldn't have any way to find you, and you know that I just love our little meetings."

Riley turned in her chair as the door behind her opened again and Willie poked his head in. She gave a silent wave goodbye to Dr. Sydney before heading over to the stern looking sweeper, following him out the door and missing the rest of the conversation with Jarod. It was plain to her that whatever Jarod might say on the phone probably ran under Mr. Lyle's category of inappropriate topics of conversation. She followed the sweeper down the hall, wincing at the vice-grip he had on her upper arm. The dark sweeper never talked, keeping a stony face throughout the trip back to her room. Riley didn't like talking with the sweepers in any case. She had much more important things to mull over on her own. Dr. Sydney for instance.

His connection to Jarod made him suspect, because his attachment could color his pursuit of him. And he had behaved so strangely-- everything against what she had been taught. Call him by his first name? Ask any question she wanted? They were liberties she was almost too afraid to even think about. And he had an unerving amount of interest in _her. _

Her headache flared up behind her temples and she dropped the subject in her mind. She didn't want to think of it. She just wanted to go back to her lonely-feeling room and try to catch some sleep. Simple dreams for a simple life that appeared not nearly so simple, anymore.

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Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallible. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you... 


	5. Chapter 5

_Murphy's fifth Law: Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse._

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Lyle reclined on Riley's bed, waiting for her to appear with Willie. His lunch date had gone well; the client was willing to pay a small fortune for the techniques Riley had undoubtedly come up with in the field of open heart surgery, he was a doctor who wanted his name to go down in the history books. Lyle had been looking at the highlighted segments in the book Riley had been reading, and the diagrams she had drawn. That doctor's name certainly would go down in history; it probably wouldn't be built upon for another hundred years. But while Riley's mind seemed to be working just as well as it always had, her behavior of late was becoming progressively worse. The minor infractions in her conduct had been slowly increasing for over two months now, and it was obvious to Lyle that she was getting bored. It wasn't unheard of; if Lyle was correct Jarod had gone through a similar period in his teen years. It wasn't _good _either.

He frowned in contemplation of Riley's behavior; she had disobeyed him _three times_ today, and she flat out refused him when he had her do the empathy drill. She wasn't obedient any longer. She probably didn't even realize it, but with the effects that SIMing Jarod could have on her, Lyle couldn't afford these lapses in her behavior. SIMing Jarod in itself would probably give her more of a sense of ethics than Raines or he had ever wanted, and Lyle really wasn't sure what to do about that, after all, Jarod's conscience had inevitably been his reason to leave the Centre.

Riley was never intended to be a sociopath or a schizophrenic or even a murderer like many of Raines' other projects, but they had found early on when training her, that when a child is never told the meaning of right or wrong, they don't have definable boundaries for them. Riley knew certain things were wrong, but they weren't the sort of things like 'killing is wrong', or any other universal moral principle. Disobedience towards the Centre, was wrong in Riley's world. Disrespect towards a superior was wrong. These were the worst things she could do in her world. Killing was alright as long as no one told her that murder was bad. And she certainly wasn't going to hear that around this place.

He would have to discuss these lapses in her behavior with Raines this evening. If they were going to keep her under control, they were going to have to find a new way to go about it. Lyle groaned inwardly as he realized he was going to have to review the tape of her interaction with Sydney as well. There was simply no time for all of this mess; not as they were right about to enter into such a complicated pretend. He heard the beep signaling that the door would open in a matter of seconds and Lyle sat up from his reclining position. The door opened fully and Willie pushed the pretender into the room, nodding his head in Lyle's direction, before turning and leaving. Riley pushed herself up from the floor where she had fallen, oblivious to his presence in her room until her eyes rested on his shoes; she scrambled up hurriedly at the discovery and backed up a few paces, only stopping when she bumped into her desk. Lyle stood up and walked over to her, contemplating her for a moment. He backhanded her across the face and she flinched, bringing her hand up to her face where he could already see the blood rushing to her cheek. He pushed her down to sit at the desk chair she had been standing next to and knelt in front of her so they were looking at each other eye to eye.

He looked at her disappointedly, "Riley, can you tell me why I've been forced to punish you today?"

"I..." She always wanted to please him so badly. Hesitating now, it was less a matter of not knowing and more a matter of wondering what he wanted her to say.

"Think back to this morning when you first woke up." He prompted, voicing more his disappointment than anger.

"I let my emotions control me, I was startled, and I got scared." She admitted quietly. Lyle sometimes thought that admitting her infractions was almost more of a punishment for Riley than any sort of physicality—admitting that she had done something wrong, admitting that she had let her handlers, let the Centre, down. This... whatever _this _really was... this punishment was really more of a dance they did for the cameras. Something Raines could watch and nod over, satisfied that his disciplinary program was working. Lyle allowed some of his anger into his voice, explaining to her what _exactly _she had done wrong. What she needed to avoid doing next time. Why she shouldn't do it again.

"Riley, Mr. Parker is the director of this company. He's my boss. He's my _father,_ and you made me look like a fool in front of him."

Riley hung her head silently.

"But that isn't even all that you've done today Riley. Do you even realize how many times you've disobeyed us? How many times you've disobeyed _me_?" He asked, his tone cold and hard. Lyle knew that he could create an equal punishment simply by continuing to berate her in this tone of voice. Riley lived for approval-_ his_ approval.

"I'm sorry sir... it was an accident..." she sounded so pathetically lost. Like a dog that has been kicked and doesn't know why, still seeking approval from its master despite the mistreatment.

"An accident?" He continued incredulously, "Riley, you're supposed to have control over yourself! It can't have been an accident, you know the rules! It's not as though this is anything new!"

"I'm s-sorry." Passing frustration marred her face at the sound of the stutter, and she took a breath before resuming. "It won't happen again, Sir." She said, still in the direction of the floor. Though Lyle could almost detect a pleading note in her voice.

Real anger flared through Lyle at the comment and he yanked her to her feet and pushed her against the wall behind her. Her head cracked against the cinderblock loudly. "It already has happened again, Riley!" Lyle said heatedly. "I had to force you into a simulation today! I have _never_ had to do that with you before! Now, I'd like to know just what was going through your head that made you think that you had the right to disobey me! You never disobey again, understand!" Lyle slammed her again into the wall and she sputtered for breath.

"What do you have to say Riley? Surely you have something to say in your defense?"

"I won't disobey you again sir." The girl mumbled, she stumbled to remain standing as he let her go, looking unstable on her feet.

"For your sake I hope you don't." He told her, grabbing her shirt and pulling her over to the bed, forcing her to sit down, she looked as though she would topple over any minute if she remained standing.

"If this is the sort of behavior that I can expect from you Riley, then you can expect a lot more of these types of encounters with me, which is something that _neither_ of us wants, understand?"

She nodded silently. Studying her shoes with intense interest.

"Riley, answer me when I'm speaking to you!" he said, slapping her across the face once more.

The cut on her cheek opened up again, and she swiped at the trickle of blood trekking down her face. "Y-Yes sir, I-I understand."

Lyle stood up and grabbed a paper towel from the sink, wetting it down with cold water. He handed it to her as he exited the room. "You'll want to try to get that lip to stop bleeding." He said as he left the room, ordering the sweeper at the door to bring down a medic. He walked to his office, feeling as though he wanted to throw up. Somewhere along the line he felt he had taken a bit more than his adoptive father's name, and he didn't actually like it. Murder happened, torture accompanied it occasionally, but those cases were different. She was so _dependent. _So pathetic really, all she wanted was their approval, all she had _ever _wanted was their approval. She lived for it, that little pat on the head at the end of the day that signaled a job well done. Her ambitions lived only in the realm that she had been raised and Lyle occasionally wondered if she would be so nearsighted, such a dismal dreamer, had she been raised in the real world? If she had been raised in the Centre's hierarchy? Riley made no plans, they weren't hers to make, but if she did, he wondered what her design would be.

**- **

**- **

Cox injected the stimulant into the motionless teenager, checking her pulse and heart rate, and inspecting the various bruises and cuts adorning her face and arms. He was rewarded for his efforts as the pretender began to shy away from his ministrations in her sleep. She gasped audibly when he found the bruising area at the back of her head, attempting to sit up, alert once again.

"Welcome back to the world of the living." He said while pushing her back onto the cot, "Lie back down before you pass out again. You've got a bump on the back of your skull the size of a goose egg." Cox began inspecting it some more, careful to avoid causing the young girl any more discomfort.

Riley allowed herself to be pushed back down. The room was spinning and she couldn't focus on anything, her lip was throbbing where she assumed it had split. She vaguely recognized that someone was talking to her, but she couldn't make out the words. Her vision began clearing and she saw who it was that was attending to her.

"Mr. Cox?" Her voice was raspy and grated against her throat as she tried to talk.

"Hmmmm," The man mumbled his recognition that she was talking to him as he looked over the finger-shaped bruising around her upper arms.

"Could you repeat that a little slower, while the room stops spinning?" She asked, trying to laugh off her discomfort. Cox chuckled at the question, and merely continued in his assessment, but for his part he did slow down his speech.

"Well, nothing's broken, and your head is merely bruised, despite the fact that it probably feels as though it's been hit with a sludge hammer. Your lip will be fine if we get some ice on it," he said, handing her an ice pack from the bag next to him. Some idiot sweeper had nabbed Cox out of his office rather than getting an orderly, but it wasn't really keeping him from anything and he didn't particularly mind. He had an ample supply of medical knowledge and reasoned that it was probably better if the pretender woke up to a familiar face rather than an orderly whom she had never met before. So many changes like this to a person that had been kept in a regular routine all their life simply could not lead to good reactions. "Care to tell me how you got yourself into this mess?" he asked, genuinely interested. Riley, as far as he knew, was probably the least disappointing Centre project to date. Smart _and _obedient. What an idea!

The pretender shook her head as she sat up and leaned against the wall behind her, "I was being stupid. I just... I don't know, I couldn't get a grasp on things today."

"Well, we all have our bad days; hopefully _you_ don't have many more soon." Cox indulged her. He stood up, packing away his equipment as he did. "Your SIM for this afternoon was canceled I believe, Mr. Lyle was able to sell his client those diagrams you drew, so I wouldn't worry about having too many other demands on your time. Concentrate on healing. And for God's sake, avoid these sorts of entanglements in the future."

"I didn't do anything on purpose." She protested, feeling around the back of her head, she winced in pain.

Cox took that in and started rummaging around in his bag. "I believe I may have something for that." He said, locating a bottle of Tylenol. If he _were _an orderly, he undoubtedly would have something a tad stronger, but that was the tradeoff he supposed. Cox took out two of the pills and handed them to her, but she would not take them.

"I-I shouldn't."

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Oh? And why not?"

"B-because I deserve it. I mean-- It's my fault I'm in this mess, I ought to deal with the consequences. Shouldn't I?"

"I suppose so." Cox allowed, slipping the pills back into his pocket. Oh yes, intelligent, obedient, and self-recriminating. The Centre finally had done it right.

A light beeping came from the door and Cox intercepted the sweeper carrying the girl's lunch before he could enter the room. Cox maneuvered the man back out the door. He took the pills from his pocket and popped them open, dumping the powder out into the bowl the sweeper was still carrying. He motioned to the spoon on the tray next to it while he closed his medical bag. "Stir that up in there if you would; that girl is too dutiful for her own good."

The sweeper walked back into the cell and Cox followed, intending to ensure the girl did, in fact, eat. She had the most infuriating tendency not to.

Riley looked up as the door unlocked and a sweeper walked in carrying her food on a tray, and set it down at her desk before leaving again. She stood up, she was a little bit dizzy, but able to stand, and her head was clearing quickly. She walked over to the desk and looked down at the food with distaste. It wasn't the same sort she was used to. This looked far more soup-y than anything she had had before; a bit like creamed spinach floating in tomato-vegetable broth. She groaned aloud, "I ought to report that as a crime, 'cruelty to vegetables'." She said, trying to appeal to Mr. Cox's odd sense of humor. He didn't show it very often, but it came out every now and then.

Cox laughed lightly, "Well Riley, seeing as you haven't had anything else to eat today I suggest that you deal with it, your body needs nourishment and that's the only food you're going to get."

"Are all of the meals here like this?"

"They're all made by the same cook-- they're all like this."

"Ew."

Mr. Cox came over to look over her shoulder. "That is a surprisingly good description for only one word...come on now, it can't be that bad." He offered optimistically. "It's good for you."

"_Salads _are good for you. This looks like it's already been regurgitated by someone else. I'm being fed hand-me-down food." She said. Her head may have been clearing quickly, but she obviously still didn't have control over the barrier between her brain and her tongue, as _that_ was hardly the epitome of respect.

"Riley." Mr. Cox's voice lost its friendly tone, "The whole reason why I had to come down here today was because you were disobedient and dealt with accordingly, I'd hate for you to waste my time by rushing to add disrespectful to the list."

Riley became suddenly very interested in her shoelaces, "Yes Sir. I-I apologize."

"Good, now eat what you're given and be thankful you've got it at all."

"Yes sir."

Cox left the room and its occupant, allowing an inward smile at the teenager's antics, 'cruelty to vegetables' indeed.

-

-

Riley collapsed back onto her bed; she had eaten the foul _chef surprise _without any further complaint and didn't feel like she could stand any longer, she wanted to sleep, it would help her body to heal itself faster, but she found that she couldn't because of the stimulant Mr. Cox had used to wake her up. She shouldn't be trying to sleep after hitting her head like that anyway, it was like inviting a coma. Inviting a coma even more than she already had that was, Riley rubbed the back of her head tenderly and wondered just when exactly she had passed out. She honestly couldn't remember the last time that she had found herself like this, on the receiving end of Mr. Lyle's displeasure—on the receiving end of _anyone's _displeasure. It didn't happen often. It hurt. Not the actual punishment so much... well yes, that did hurt of course, but differently... it was his disappointment that hurt. Her own shame at being unable to live up to their standards—unable to pay her debt. She owed the Centre, or its owners, everything she had. They had taken her in as a baby, they had raised her, and they had kept her safe. But she always ended up disappointing them at some point, and that hurt.

She sat up and inspected the room around her; the elevator ride down with Willie had placed it somewhere on sublevel 25, and the number alone nearly had her head spinning. The facility had been a small place, with only three or so working levels, and not nearly as many people. Riley had been, as far as she knew, the only permanent resident, and aside from her, the only people that worked there were a handful of technicians and security personnel. The Centre was very different from her old home, but Riley found it comforting to learn that some things would never change between the two buildings, and it seemed that the living accommodations were one of them.

Her room was nondescript, grey concrete walls, a bed, and a table that served as a desk. There were no drawers for her to place things out of sight, Riley knew that Mr. Lyle even read her journal entries; it was one reason why she did not make them anymore.A book shelf sat in the far corner, clear for now, but she would soon remedy that. If Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines indulged her in nothing else, they had never stopped her from reading. Mr. Raines even went so far as to give her books from his library at home. When she was younger he had given her a medical text, only to find that she had updated almost all of the procedures in the book as well as created some new ones by the very next day. She thought that was probably the only time she had ever managed to truly satisfy the man in her entire life.

Riley didn't recognize anything from her old room, and she didn't miss most of it. To tell the truth, she didn't really have much to miss, however there was a text on criminal psychology that she adored, and she hoped she could convince someone to retrieve it from her room at the Facility. Her eyes continued scanning the room, a small bathroom area was set off to the side, a camera rested above it leaving the area below in a blind spot, and finally there was a box on the wall that allowed Them to speak to her, she just wished that it wasn't only one way. However, despite the room's physical similarities to her old home, it simply exuded a sense of detachment. It was _lonely. _She felt as though she had been hidden away, out of site, buried even. Her old room had been so close to everything else, and this place just _wasn't._

She found the vent quickly, but shuddered at the thought of using it to explore now. She had already gotten herself into enough trouble as it was. She stared at the grating, watching the dust motes buffet about in the air around it. She got so lost in her thoughts, her eyes staring at the vent, that until sometime later she didn't even realize the vent was staring back. She scrambled back into the corner where her wall and her bed met, staring at it with wide eyes. Her thoughts from earlier came back to her with a jolt.

_Human._

The vent was pried lose from the inside and she watched as a young man stepped out. He looked to be Mr. Lyle's age, but he was as far from looking like Mr. Lyle as she was from looking like Mr. Raines; he had light colored hair, with a strangely reddish hue, and blue eyes that sparked with intelligence. His face was pock-marked and scarred, with bushy eyebrows presiding over a thin nose. He had a confident half-smile on his face, and without warning he loped to her bedside. Riley was truly uneasy by now, not only had this man, this unknown man, broken into her room, but he was staring at her. He reached out and grabbed her hand, smiling like an insane person.

"Not hurt...like Angelo... not hurt."

"Let go of me!" She yanked her hand back, startled by the touch; the only time any person touched her was to punish her. She was tense and not calmed in the slightest when he only proceeded to move closer to her.

"Look, I don't know who you think you are..."

"Angelo."

"But you had better get out of my room right now. I mean it, hey stop that, what are you doing? Cut it out!" Angelo was fingering her split lip, muttering about something to himself, and she was already too far backed into a corner to try pulling away further.

"What are you doing? Who are you and _why_ are you in my room?"

"Yes Angelo, inquiring minds want to know; what _are_ you doing in Riley's room?" Riley heard Mr. Lyle as he entered the doorway, flanked by Mr. Raines. Her confused mind hadn't registered the faint beep that preceded the door opening and she was a little startled by their sudden appearance.

"Mr. Lyle, Mr. Raines, I-I honestly don't know how he got in here, I mean- well I do, he came through the vent, b-but I didn't have anything to do with it! I-I swear! He just _appeared_." She said while scrambling to her feet, attempting to steer clear of Mr. Lyle's wrath.

"Don't worry Riley..." Mr. Raines wheezed, "Angelo... has a problem... with staying in his _own_ space." Mr. Raines was glaring at Angelo, who for his part looked like he wanted desperately to disappear back to his 'own space'.

"Who is he?" Riley asked hesitantly, hoping he might indulge her in an answer.

"He's an empath, Riley." Mr. Lyle spoke up.

"Like me?" her thoughts centered on his words from earlier.

_Like Angelo._

"After a fashion." His answer was vague, but better than nothing.

"Why doesn't he talk? He's acting strangely." She persisted, Mr. Lyle had already answered her other two questions, it could be a sign that he was feeling talkative.

"Angelo... is the result of an experiment... whose results were less than...adequate." Mr. Raines told her, while signaling down the hallway at a sweeper on duty.

_Less than adequate?_

Riley stared down at her feet; she could only imagine what might have gone wrong that would cause the fully grown man to act like _this_. She obviously wasn't hurt... but he was. That's what he must have meant by 'not hurt'- she wasn't like him. The sweeper showed up at the door and looked to Mr. Raines inquiringly.

"Take Angelo back to his space...And ensure that he remains there..."

The burly man grabbed Angelo roughly by the arm, and dragged him from the room. Angelo seemed oblivious to the treatment though, and shuffled along beside him, looking at the ground and muttering to himself.

Lyle grabbed Riley's chin, looking at his handiwork that was adorning the young girl's cheek. It had scabbed over, and looked like it would leave a scar. Funny, it took the attention away from the mole just above it. Fine with him; he didn't like being reminded of Jarod every time he came to work. Riley managed to restrain herself for longer than two seconds, but finally pulled back from the touch on instinct and he allowed her to shy away from his grasp, noticing as she did that she was no longer wearing the small pendant which typically adorned her neck. It was a gift from her old mentor that she had been incredibly reluctant to part with.

"Decided to finally forget the past?" he indicated her neck, smirking slightly at how much the Centre was already beginning to change her. Riley's hand flew to her throat, searching blindly for the long time source of comfort that she typically wore at all times.

"Uh oh." she whispered under her breath, neither of the men heard her.

She took a step unconsciously towards the door before she checked herself, intending to ask permission to go get the necklace from Angelo. That thief had stolen it!

"Where do you think you're going?" Mr. Lyle gave her an incredulous look, confused by her sudden movement.

"N-Nowhere...I mean..." Riley hesitated before asking. "Sir, he stole my necklace, may I have per-permission to get it back?" Riley already thought she knew the answer would be no. Mr. Lyle had never agreed with how much Riley took after Sarah. But she still had to ask.

"Riley, I don't think that's a good idea. It's about time that you stopped living in the past. That's part of the reason why you're here; your new life is at the Centre. You are the property of the Centre, you always have been, and it's time you came to terms with that."

"But Sir, Sarah gave me that! It's important to me! Please..."

Mr. Lyle grabbed her and shook her, "Don't argue Riley! This is your life now, forget the Facility, forget Sarah, you no longer belong there, you _belong_ to the Centre, you are the _property _of the Centre, as such you _are_ going to work for the Centre, and you _will _obey me! Do you understand!"

Riley blinked back the pricking sensation behind her eyes. Her times with Sarah when she was a child had been some of the best she had ever had. She didn't want to lose them. She hung her head resignedly; she had to follow orders. "Yes, Sir."

"I don't want to hear you ever talk about Sarah or the Facility again. I hear anything relating to them again and you will be punished, and when you wake up that time you're going to find yourself in renewal, do I make myself clear?"

Riley felt her breath hitch at the mention of the Renewal Wing. "Y-Yes Sir."

"Good." Mr. Lyle left her room, Mr. Raines following like a squeaky shadow.

Riley collapsed back onto her bed, wishing she could cry. But no! That was against the rules too. Even if it wasn't she wouldn't allow herself to; crying was weakness, she wasn't weak. But she still wished that she could. She turned over onto her stomach in the bed, hiding her face in her pillow and fighting to stop herself from sobbing. She fought to keep her breathing regular and easy, if anyone was watching from the surveillance room, she wanted it to look like she had just fallen asleep, even if it wasn't really the truth.

* * *

Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallible. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you... 


	6. Chapter 6

_Murphy's sixth Law: If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something._

**

* * *

**

Parker scanned the file folder in front of her, across the front in bold lettering were the words "Project Silence." Inside were documents on documents of genetic data, medical reports, psych analyses, and some records of previous SIMs, but nothing in the folder told Parker anything about the girl who had been previously occupying her office chair. This was, naturally, the doctored version of the girl's file, with numerous things either blacked out or missing entirely. Parker wished she could find some way of gaining access to the complete file, rather than this piece of carved up garbage. The girl was an utter mystery; she was a shadow without a past, present, or future. In Parker's opinion, this was simply an invitation to go snooping. After all, you know what they say about mysteries needing to be solved. Parker stood up from her chair and gracefully walked out the door of her office, headed in the direction of the Tech Room.

-

-

Sydney leaned back in his chair, thinking about Riley, he couldn't believe they had done it again, taken another child to mold into a human computer. But not only had they stolen her life, they had created her in the first place! She was a scrambled egg of genetic codes from three different red files, the ultimate pretender. He thought back to his time spent with her in Miss Parker's office, the girl had spirit, there were no doubts there, but it was well hidden from the public eye, pushed down under years of Lyle and Raines' influence, years of absolute torture he was sure.

She was smart, incredibly so, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't. Her questions in Mr. Parker's office spoke of great foresight into the problems with the simulation, and the fact that Lyle felt her capable of becoming someone who is becoming someone else told him almost all he needed to know about her pretending ability. But because of her shields, her defense mechanisms of changing the subject or asking the complicated questions, he still knew absolutely nothing about her, not really. If she always felt threatened with the prospect of Raines or Lyle finding out what she felt, Sydney doubted he would ever get the chance to know her either. He wished he had access to her SIMs, better yet the DSA's of her when she wasn't simming, he wanted to find out what could have possibly influenced her so much that she felt it necessary to hide herself away from the world.

When he thought about it, Angelo did too, he was constantly hiding in the ventilation systems, but he hid because of the electro-shock treatment he underwent as a child. Why did she? What was her electro-shock treatment? There were so many questions and so few answers at the Centre. And it seemed as though each answer only gave more questions, he doubted they'd ever find the answers to all of them. But perhaps they could find the answers to these ones.

-

-

_Morning at the Facility was always the busiest time of day; people arriving, meeting up with colleagues, getting assignments, and in the hustle-and-bustle, Riley had her own routine. She pulled herself into the vents and played imaginary games while no one was manning the cameras. She explored, and watched people, and ran mazes in the vent shafts, and it was fun. Lonely... but fun. But this morning she hadn't gotten to. This morning someone had come to her room before she was even awake and taken her out to the simulation lab, to Mr. Raines. He'd given her a packet of math papers to work on and then gone into his own office off the SIM lab to work. She was done now. She'd been done for half an hour, and he _knew _that. He'd just snapped at her to stay put and keep quiet._

_Riley leaned forward over the desk, trying to see into his office doorway, but she wasn't tall enough. She slipped down off the chair and slowly, hesitantly, moved to the office door. She waited on the outside a minute before crossing the threshold. He didn't look up from the file he was writing in. She took another step forward, then another. Finally, she stood on tip-toe to peer over the edge of his desk._

_"Mr. Raines?" She whispered. He looked up from his papers with an angry snarl, standing up to move around his desk._

_"I told you to stay put." He growled, grabbing her by her upper arm and dragging her back out to the SIM lab._

_"Ow." She tried pulling away from him, but his grip only tightened. "That hurts. Let go."_

_"Be quiet." He deposited her back at the table then turned to go back to his office._

_"Can't I go do something else Sir? _Please?_" She asked, swinging her legs back and forth, itching to move._

_"No."_

_"But I've finished my work-- I wanna go play."_

_He turned back around and she quailed under the evil glare he was giving her. "There's no playing here."_

_She bit her lip until he'd turned back around. "Sarah _always _let me play once I was done."_

_This time he turned back around and walked the length of the room back over to her, pulling her out of the chair, and shaking her by the shoulders. "Sarah is gone! She's not coming back! Not for the likes of you." he finished, releasing her. Riley stepped back from him, eyes tearing up. He sent her a caustic glare. "Stop sniveling."_

_"You're mean. I don't like you." She said, struggling as he tried to put her back in her seat._

_"That doesn't matter." He said, once he had her firmly planted._

_"It _does _matter. You aren't supposed to be mean to people-- it hurts their feelings." She argued. _

_"You don't _have_ feelings. I say so."_

_"I do too!"_

_"No, you don't. Know why? Because you aren't a person. You're an experiment; a subject; a piece of property. _My _property. Your feelings don't exist; they're immaterial--"_

_"Imma-what?"_

_"Immaterial, Riley. They don't matter. Nothing about what you want, or what you want to do, matters. You belong to _me-- _you live so you can do what I tell you."_

_Riley pushed out of her seat and ran from the room, but she was caught by a large black man standing guard at the door. He brought her, kicking and struggling, back inside to Mr. Raines, who was fuming. "Willie. Take her to Mr. Lyle. Have him determine a suitable punishment for running away from me."_

"No!" Riley woke up, trying to blink past the inky darkness filling the room. Her stomach hurt, and there were dried tear tracks on her face. She sat forward to cradle her head in her hands. This day had been bad enough. _Why _did she have to dream that? Why? She opened her eyes back up to the pitch dark room and shuddered, remembering the rest of what had happened. Riley had been locked in a dark room for three days. She _hated _the dark. The fluorescent rod above her started humming quietly and Riley closed her eyes quickly just as it began flickering to life. She squinted her eyes back open, allowing her pupils to adjust, before unscrewing her face and opening her eyes again completely. The quiet tone came from the doorway, alerting her that someone was coming down for her. She didn't bother getting up to cross the room and wait for them either. She just didn't care. If they'd decided they wanted to come down to SL-25 in the middle of the night, then they couldn't possibly blame her for not getting out of bed to meet them.

Mr. Lyle walked through the open door, his jacket folded over one arm, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He must have still been working. He sighed when he found her, still on the bed, and pulled her desk chair out and over, sitting down in it sideways.

"It's been a tough day between you and me, huh?" He said.

Riley just shrugged.

"I saw you on the monitors upstairs," he tried again, motioning up at the ceiling, "you were having a nightmare. Are you feeling alright?"

Riley took a deep breath, fiddling with the blanket down by her feet. "Why does it matter?" She asked, avoiding his eyes. "I'm just property, right?"

Mr. Lyle leaned back at that, and folded his arms in front of him. "We haven't had to talk about _that _in years. What's wrong?"

"Why does it matter?"

He rolled his eyes dismissively. "It matters, because you are _my _property," he said. "And tonight, I'm taking an interest. Tell me what the problem is."

"Just that, you're right-- it's been a tough day."

"Tough enough to give you bad dreams?"

She shrugged. "Guess so."

He could see he wouldn't get any more out of her that night, and stood up with a loud sigh. "Alright. It's late. That's really all that you want to tell me?" He asked, pausing on his way out the door.

"That's all there is to say."

-

-

Broots poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe sitting by the wall before moving back to his seat in front of the computer, staring lethargically at the search code traveling along the screen. They'd been at this all day.

"Anything yet?" Miss Parker asked from where she was pacing around behind him.

"No." He answered, then lowering his voice, "And to the question you ask in five minutes, also, no."

Sydney looked up from the chess game he was playing in the corner. "Parker, is something bothering you?"

"No." she bit out acidly.

Broots leaned his head back and closed his eyes as the room lapsed back into silence.

"She's so _tiny._" She finally said, coming over to Sydney's chess game, moving the bishop he'd been reaching for, down four squares.

"She's malnourished." he answered, beckoning for her to take the chair across from him. She didn't, just began pacing again.

"But why?" She asked aloud. "That doesn't make sense. Raines would want her healthy, wouldn't he?"

"You call cowering, blind obedience _healthy _do you, Parker?" Sydney asked bitterly. "I expect she was denied meals as a child."

"But _why _Syd? What does that achieve?"

"Because if you hit a person too many times, they _will, _one day, hit you back. I believe they were trying to vary their tortures back then, to avoid such an occurrence."

Broots looked up as his computer beeped at him. It practically sounded proud of itself. "Yeah, save the smugness for when you actually _find _me something." He muttered.

"I heard a beep. You said there'd be beep when it was done Broots. Is it done? What do you have?" Parker demanded, coming up behind him.

"Absolutely nothing. But that was just the internal database. Now there are the foreign databases, Raines' personal files, and of course the off chance that I'm not even entering the right search terms." Broots sighed. It had been a long day and was shaping up to be an even longer night. He needed to get home to Debbie. He'd left her with her aunt, thankfully _not _recovering from surgery this time he'd asked, and though the woman adored Debbie (who couldn't?) she also deserved her own chance at some peace tonight. He leaned back in his chair again, thinking of his own daughter, having to grow up under those two monsters.

"Just how tiny is she?" He asked.

"_Small. _Look at her genes Syd. Those men are _not _tiny."

Sydney sent Broots a look that plainly said 'you just had to bring this up again?' "You're rather fixated on that point Parker. Are you feeling alright?"

She laughed. "Aside from the mad urge to go and buy her a Big Mac, Syd?"

"Don't. You'll make her ill."

Parker saw the opportunity to argue and took it, deciding to let off a little steam. She was still angry with Sydney over his behavior in her father's office that morning, and she wasn't about to let him forget it. She turned on her heel and rolled her eyes contemptuously at him, knowing that to show disdain for his advice was a sure way to get his ire up. "_One _burger is not going to--"

"Oh really?" Sydney sniped, which was to Broot's understanding a very good indication of how tired and tense they all were, to have Sydney snipe anything was a BIG sign. "You go try and digest something you have never been allowed to have, then come back here and tell me how _you _like it."

Parker rolled her eyes. "Killjoy."

Sydney pulled up his sleeve and laid his arm out across the table, blatantly revealing the bluish faded tattoo marring his skin. "In your words Parker, 'look at your flippin' forearm Syd.' _I _still remember my first bite of food after the allies came and freed us. The very thought of _mille-feuille _sickens me to this day. Do her a favor, and don't interfere on her behalf."

"But--"

Broots spoke up from his corner. "Raines'll take it out on her."

She placed her hands on her hips, "That's unbelievable."

"No. That's Raines."

-

-

Riley tossed and turned on her bed, caught in the throes of another nightmare; she was making small incoherent noises and curled up in the fetal position.

_She was surrounded by a murky darkness, a sudden absence of everything that undermined time itself. The world spun around her, though she couldn't see it, she could feel it, and she could feel that she was falling. The world faded into its existence around her, the lights came on, and she was in the lab with Sarah. Eyes were on her, watching, and waiting, and searching. It was Them. Someone grabbed her, she couldn't see, someone was yelling, she was screaming, she was turned around, a man without a face was holding a gun, it was pointed at her! He fired, but there was no impact, the sound of someone hitting the floor behind her. Sarah! She collapsed, she was crying so hard! What's going on! Help me! Someone, anyone... do something!_

_"You work with me now Riley." _

Riley shot straight up in bed, the last words echoing in her mind. She shook her head dazedly, banishing them. She didn't know what they meant, she couldn't remember ever going through a day like that, and part of her didn't want to know if she had. She tried to calm her breathing, it was just a dream, just a nightmare, she had had them before. It didn't mean anything.

Her breath was coming in short gasps, as though she couldn't get enough air to fill her lungs. Her mind was racing as it shot from one scene of the dream to another. The dark specters swam before her eyes and suddenly every shadow in her room was a potential danger. She closed her eyes shut tightly and forced herself away from that sort of thinking. Opening them she could see things as they really were, it was just a desk and a chair, a bookshelf, nothing to be scared of. She was safe, she was perfectly safe. Her hand drifted towards her necklace, but upon reaching her throat all she found was bare skin, the events from the night earlier hit her and she slammed her fist into her pillow, wanting to scream. It wasn't fair! She didn't even have that one small comfort anymore. Sarah had always known how to calm her down after she had a nightmare, had never tired of reminding her that the shadows in her room weren't going to try and smother her in the night. Once a dream had frightened her so badly that she refused to let Sarah leave. She had been perfectly understanding throughout, she had taken Riley and carried her up to her office and made up a bed for her on the couch inside. It had taken some time for Riley to fall asleep that night, though she had eventually dropped into slumber while listening to Sarah murmuring a slow melody as she weaved her fingers through her hair and watching the stars outside the window. Sarah had pointed out a few of the constellations to Riley, and she could still remember the position of Orion in relation to the Big and Little Dippers. Riley knew that she wasn't going to fall asleep for some stretch of time this night either. She glanced up at the camera before slipping out of bed and into the ventilation systems, as long as she was back before Mr. Lyle came for her in the morning, no one need know she was running around.

-

-

Parker grabbed up her jacket from the back of her chair and swung it around her shoulders. "This is pointless. Broots, go home, tuck your daughter in bed."

Broots sat up from his computer. An hour earlier and he might have been eager, but he could hear the disappointment in his boss's voice. "We can keep searching tomorrow. There _are _other places to look." He offered, grabbing his laptop bag, and slinging it over his shoulder. "I'll start on it first thing in the morning."

"Thanks Broots."

He nodded goodnight and left for the tech room to get his bike. It was going to be one hell of a ride home this late at night.

Sydney memorized his chess game one moment longer before standing up and holding the door open for Parker. "I'll walk you out."

"Only because you insist." She permitted. Her lack of fight gave Sydney his own gage of how truly tired she was. "Syd, what did _you_ find out about Frankenstein's monster?" She asked irritably after a few moments walking in silence down the hallway. Parker did not like being left out of the loop, never had either. If there was any person she especially didn't like being left out by, it was Raines, with Lyle coming in a close second. With them working together, the feeling multiplied dramatically. In her father's office, it had seemed as though Raines had been utterly horrified to have Parker snooping around his project, but really, the old ghoul should have recognized that there was nothing else he could have done that would have drawn more attention to this girl, than by trying to keep her a secret.

Sydney thought of telling the woman beside him that the girl wasn't a monster, but he knew that it wouldn't change anything. Thinking of the pretenders at the Centre as something other than human... lab rats for instance, was her way of keeping them separated from the inhumane conditions they lived their lives in. At least, that's what Sydney liked to think.

"She is, of course, incredibly smart-"

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know." Parker retorted sarcastically.

"Well, she may have attempted escape once." Sydney said, perfectly calm. Waiting to see Parker's reaction.

"She _what_?" Parker spun on her heel to face him, looking incredulous.

"Well obviously the attempt didn't work Parker. I'd imagine it's an experience she would rather forget about... I'm rather more interested in why she tried-" Sydney was cut off by the appearance of someone in the next room as they rounded the corner.

Parker stopped short as she saw the pretender silhouetted against one of the large picture windows in the mezzanine, lying down, stretched out along a bench, watching the stars. She looked like she might have fallen asleep; her chest rose and fell gently, completely at peace with the world. She stood up presently, looking around and behind her in case someone was still at the Centre at this hour. Parker and Sydney dropped back into the shadows before her eyes could find them. Riley turned back around, taking a final look out the window, and headed over to a vent grate, prying it loose and slipping inside, she had no idea anyone was watching her.

Sydney watched Parker closely as they exited on their way out to the car park, but if Parker had any strong feelings towards what they had just witnessed, she kept them very well hidden. Sydney hardly expected anything different.

* * *

Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallible. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you... 


	7. Chapter 7

_Murphy's seventh Law: Nature always sides with the hidden flaw.__

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_

Riley couldn't for the life of her understand why Mr. Lyle had told her that the SIM she was doing might be too difficult for her. It wasn't that bad, difficult yes, but not too difficult. She sat in a large plastic bubble, trying to figure out how she could bring the Apollo mission back to Earth safely. The mission had run out of fuel, and was leaking more; her problem was that she no longer had the fuel, or the materials to bring the mission back home.

"If you don't find the answer soon, you and your crew will die." Mr. Lyle's voice floated to her.

_Well if that wasn't totally obvious before, it certainly is now_

Riley tamped down on the sarcastic thoughts running through her head, focusing on the simulation. It wasn't altogether extremely difficult, but it was a much higher level than any of her other simulations had ever been before. She relished the challenge. She closed her eyes, trying to focus her thoughts, pulling them like threads from one end of her mind to meet in the center, holding them all there where she could see them. She was in the cockpit... she was responsible for the lives of herself and of her crew... she was going to come home, she could feel it. She knew how...

"Okay, I got it!"

Lyle stood up, shooting a look at Raines, the SIM was not supposed to end yet... It had taken Jarod at least another five minutes... what was going on?

"I can use the moon's gravitational pull to sling-shot us back to earth, that would conserve the fuel enough to allow us to use the back up boosters to slow our descent into the Earth's atmosphere. I just have to shut off or lower the settings on the electronic equipment. That will allow me to conserve the energy we need!" Riley said, opening her eyes once again.

Lyle looked at her disbelievingly. Riley was smart, there were no doubts of that, but Lyle had no illusions when it came to how well she had been trained as a pretender by him. Sydney had practically devised the training method, which was one reason why Jarod himself was such an incredible pretender. Lyle had only been able to try to tell Riley how things were done; he didn't understand half of the things himself. By no possible stretch of the mind should Riley have finished the simulation before Jarod. It defied all logic, part of the reason Raines and he had thought that having her do this project would be a good thing was that it would allow Riley to understand the thought processes of a pretender better than herself. That way it would hopefully teach her to think like him, but if she was already better at pretending than he was, it was quite probable that her pretending ability would diminish. Not that she wasa better pretenderthan Jarod. She simply couldn't be. Not possible.

"That's..." Lyle shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "That's very good Riley."

Riley looked at him confusedly, trying to understand what had made him so... spooked. _Did I do something wrong?_ She wondered, she didn't think so, the answer seemed right to her. She knew that the answer worked; perhaps Jarod had come to a different conclusion? She waited while some sweepers removed the top of the bubble, allowing her to get out. She was glad the SIM hadn't lasted any longer than that, she kept getting distracted by the bubble, she couldn't relax in it; it made her feel claustrophobic. The closed in walls and detachment reminded her too much of the isolation chamber which had been a common punishment when she was younger. She felt as though she couldn't focus inside it, maybe she hadn't done the SIM quickly enough, and that was the reason Mr. Lyle was acting so strange. Perhaps she could have done it faster if the bubble hadn't been distracting her thought processes.

She watched as Mr. Lyle conferred with Mr. Raines about something, Mr. Lyle may have been acting disturbed about her simulation, but Mr. Raines looked like his day was going better than he ever thought it could; as though he had just been promoted. Of course, his outward appearance revealed no different a demeanor than that of his typical irritability, but Riley could feel the satisfaction surrounding the man like a thick cloak.

_Weird..._

She watched from a distance while Mr. Parker approached the two men. She had seen him watching the whole SIM, periodically glancing at what looked like a computer screen as he did so. Riley didn't know what he was watching, but it had been unnerving to surface from the simulation and find him up on the catwalks, conferring with Mr. Raines. Mr. Raines rarely watched her simulations unless something important was going on, and Riley knew how influential Mr. Parker apparently was. It made her nervous to think she might have failed in the simulation in some way, in front of two such important men. That feeling of anxiety hardly scratched the surface when it came to Mr. Lyle- she hated to disappoint him, and she knew how irate he would become should she embarrass him in front of his father and boss, as she had yesterday.

Mr. Parker's white mustache ticked in annoyance as he listened to something Mr. Lyle was saying to him. She attempted to read his lips, but he wasn't facing her, and she could only see the side of his face. She looked up at the walkway that overlooked the simulations laboratory and saw Dr. Sydney standing up there; she hadn't known he was watching. He was standing behind her, so as to be less of a distraction. She waved up at him, miming her confusion about Mr.'s Lyle, Raines, and Parker's discussion. He merely shrugged his shoulders, but a little voice at the back of her head said that he knew what was going on.

Riley glanced back at the discussion, before she cautiously began walking up the stairs to meet him. She looked once more back over her shoulder, ensuring that her sneaking away had gone unnoticed. She shouldn't get into trouble even if it was, it wasn't as though she planned on leaving the lab, she was just going to the catwalks. She tried to convince herself that she wasn't doing anything wrong as she walked, but part of her knew she wasn't fooling anyone.

"Hello Doctor," She greeted the man upon reaching him. "What are you doing here? If you don't mind me asking, that is, Sir..." She hesitated, this man had seemed very laid back to her in their first meeting, allowing her to ask as many questions as she liked—encouraging them, in fact. But she still did not know him very well, and his reactions to certain happenings were completely mysterious to her. He shrugged at her though, sending out the same comfortable persona to her that he had the day before. "Just watching. You did that SIM well, better than most would really." The man replied cordially, giving her a strangely protective sort of smile. Riley breathed a small sign of relief that he hadn't rebuked her for her impudence- it wasn't her place to question him on what he did. He seemed to pay it no mind however, which was a good thing- surely he would have reported her behavior to Mr. Raines if it had bothered him, though it didn't seem as though he would now.

"I was having trouble focusing while I did it, I probably could have done it better if I wasn't getting distracted so often." She told him, leaning her forearms on the railing in front of her, looking down at the lab from the perspective of someone who didn't work in it; thinking about what they would think and feel as they watched a young investment undergo the things inflicted upon them in the lab below. Looking at it from their perspective she could understand how people like Mr. Parker could watch without showing any emotion, it looked like she was just pretending, just caught up in a game of someone else's design, it didn't look like anything wrong was happening. But Riley knew from experience that pretending to be someone else was not all fun and games. It had always struck her as odd that the act of simming a person was called pretending. There couldn't be a bigger paradox. While she was acting out a simulation she wasn't pretending, it felt as though everything was happening to her, and some of the things that happened in the lab were positively terrifying. Thinking like a serial killer, feeling the emotions of a dying person, these things were horrifying. The kind of things that made you wake up in the middle of the night wonderingwhere you were,wondering _who_you were. But from up here it just looked like a child had gotten wrapped up in a world of make-believe. She snapped herself out of the pretend she had begun to create for herself and turned back to Dr. Sydney.

"I don't understand why they're all acting strange, you just said yourself that I did the SIM well, so why does Mr. Lyle look so... disturbed?" She asked him, voicing her previous concerns. She realized that this was another one of those dangerous questions; the kind that should have the man fuming, but Dr. Sydney still did nothing. She felt she could push the protocol with this man, and she was going to take advantage of that as far as she could. She wanted answers.

"Disturbed? Well I don't really know for sure, but I'm certain that if you had done anything wrong they would let you know. Don't worry about it, you'll find out eventually."

Riley knew he wasn't telling her everything, watched his eyes flicker downward and the way his shoulders tensed a bit while he was thinking of an answer for her. She let it slide, he didn't owe her anything.

"I guess you're right, it's just that, I'd like to know if I did something wrong so I know how to act later, anticipate other people's reactions, you know, but right now I'm lost." She told him as she walked over to the keypad by the door, looking at it closely, it was different than the ones at the Facility, and it looked to be of higher quality as well.

"Mr. Lyle might not appreciate you looking too closely at the security systems around here you know." Sydney cautioned her, but made no move to stop her. She looked back at him, and for a short moment Sydney saw a look of almost pure terror cross her face at the thought of what Mr. Lyle would do to her if he knew what she was doing.

"You're right, I shouldn't be up here, I should really go, g-goodbye Dr. Sydney." She backpedaled, turning around and running down the stairs. She reached the bottom of the steps and sat down, waiting for her handlers to finish their discussion. Mr. Raines and Mr. Parker walked out of the room still talking, and Mr. Lyle turned toward her.

"Riley come here." Riley followed his order, getting up from her position and walking over to him.As she nearedMr. Lyle, she began gauging his feelings, trying to empath him so that she might be able to anticipate his actions. His feelings were cloudy though, and she was left in the dark.

"Do you think you had a good grasp on that SIM?"

"It was more difficult than the ones that I'm used to, but I think I understood it Sir." She responded, wondering why he was asking.

"Good. You did well; did you feel like you had any problems with it?"

"I don't think so." She said truthfully, while debating internally, "May I ask a question Sir?" She looked up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.

"Go ahead." He was pleased that she had remembered to ask permission before questioning him.

"Well, it's just that you were acting... strangely after the SIM, I was just wondering if I had done it wrong."

"Why would you think that you had done it wrong? Weren't you sure you had reached the correct conclusion?" Lyle looked down at her sternly; Riley was supposed to always make sure that she had the correct answer.

"Of course I was sure!" She looked up at him indignantly.

"Riley, I'm going to ignore the disrespect you just showed me, but you had better not make another outburst like that again or I will not be so easily swayed next time."

Riley took a deep breath, calming down before continuing. "I knew that I had the correct answer, but there were multiple scenarios to that SIM and I wasn't sure if I had chosen the same one that Jarod had. That's all; I was just confused by your reaction to my answer, so I thought I might have been incorrect in my findings."

He nodded in understanding of her answer, and she noticed he was massaging the decimated thumb of his left hand. She knew he wasn't telling the whole truth then; he was nervous about something. He seemed to notice what he was doing as well, because he quickly seperated his hands before looking down at her again. "Well, rest assured that you're answer was satisfactory, a bit more than satisfactory actually, you did nothing wrong. Don't think about it, if I thought it necessary for you to know about, then I'd tell you."

"Yes Mr. Lyle." Riley was a little disappointed that she wasn't allowed to question him more. She just wanted to know why everyone was acting the way they were, especially if she was the cause.

A sweeper walked over to them and whispered something in Mr. Lyle's ear. "Coming here?" Mr. Lyle repeated back to him, wondering if he had heard him right. The sweeper nodded once before walking back out the way he had come. Riley looked up at Mr. Lyle curiously, asking her unspoken question. "Everything's fine Riley, in fact because of how well you did we may have just captured the interest of the Triumvirate."

"T-The Triumvirate?" A look of pure terror crossed her face before she got her emotions under control enough to slip her neutral mask in place.

"Riley, the last time you met with the Triumvirate, you were in trouble, and this time it's because you've shown how good of a pretender you are. I think that they'll be a bit happier with you, there is no need to look so frightened." He looked at her sternly, understanding her reason for being scared, but still frustrated by how much she had been allowing her emotions to control her reactions lately. "The pursuit team doesn't have any immediate leads on Jarod, is there anything you'd like to do, rather than go to your room?"

"_I _get to choose?" She looked up at him barely masking the eagerness in her voice.

He gave an encouraging smile "Never let it be said that I don't reward good work."

Her brows furrowed as she made her decision "Do you have anything that needs to be done in the Tech room?"

"Come to think of it we have a new security system that we need checked, want to try hacking into it?"

"I can't believe you're asking me to hack into your security system." She gave him a bemused look as she followed him from the room.

"It _was _your idea."

She had to lengthen her strides to keep up with him as he walked over toward the elevators. "When's the T-Triumvirate gonna be here?" She asked, keeping herself just far enough behind him that it would make reaching back to smack her more of an effort than it was worth. She knew the question was impertinent after he had just closed the subject, but she couldn't help it-- she needed to know.

He got into the elevator and leaned up against the back wall, crossing his arms over his chest and his feet at the ankle. "I don't _know _Riley; I'm not their travel guide." He said, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"But-- do you know if all of them are coming? What am I gonna have to do? How long are they going to be here? And--"

"Riley. I told you not to worry about this. Stop hyperventilating."

"But..." She gauged his mood before stepping over to be on the same wall he was. "What if I do it wrong?"

He opened his eyes and peered down at her, and it suddenly felt like she was impossibly small, a little speck on the floor staring up at him. "You won't."

She nodded immediately, taking a small step back over to her own wall of the elevator, not daring to speak again even after it came to a stop and they left for the tech room. Riley caught a parting glance at the lighted floor above the elevator doors: SL-5.

-

-

Broot's poked his head quietly into Miss Parker's office, clearing her throat to get her attention. She looked up from the file folder she was perusing, hurriedly ushering him in once she saw who was standing at the door. "Tell me you have good news, Broots."

"Uh... I have good news?" He said, waiting until the office door hissed shut behind him before amending, "I have _really _good news." He stepped further inside before taking a quick look up at the surveillance camera in the corner.

"It's off, Broots." Miss Parker snapped peevishly. "You don't think I'd really let them record me, do you?"

"Oh, uh, okay then." He said, moving over to stand in front of her desk, leaning forward conspiratorially. "You'll never guess who I met in the tech room today."

"Another one of your buddies missing body parts?" She hazarded. "You know, tongue, eyes, fingers, teeth?"

"Not even close." He told her, giving off a nervous laugh. "Riley." He mouthed.

"In the tech room?"

"Lyle's personal pet project herself." He rushed excitedly. "Yeah, apparently she was up there to work on the security system we just installed. Anyway, I walked in and there she was, sitting at the desk right next to mine. And we got to talking--"

"Where was Lyle?"

"In the tech room? He hates computers-- gives me the willies--so around there he's useless. He just left a sweeper standing over by the door, and with everything that goes on around that room, the guy couldn't see or hear a thing. And anyway, Lyle doesn't really _expect _her to break any rules, does he? The sweeper could have been a cardboard cutout for all that he did in there." Broots rushed to explain. "Anyway, I was still coming up with no leads on getting her file, and I must have shown it, because in the next second she was bulldozing right through the security blocks for me!"

"Did you get her file?"

"Right out of Raines' database." Broots said with a huff, as though he still didn't believe it himself, and produced a small disk from his jacket pocket. "She didn't know or anything-- just thought she was helping a Centre employee--"

"Which is, of course, what Raines and Lyle will have trained her to do."

Broots nodded, swallowing audibly against a dry throat."It should all be right here."

"What does it say?" Parker pressed, snatching the disk from his fingers.

"To heck if I know." He admitted. "It's all encrypted, and none of my programs seem to be having any luck unraveling the code. _But, _there is a _but, _I used to do work unraveling these things all the time. It might take me a few tries, but it is possible. We'll figure out what's on this thing." He assured her. Truth to tell, he wanted to know about her almost as much as Miss Parker did. She was right-- the girl was just _tiny. _Vulnerable. Like Debbie... and she deserved their help. Whatever they could afford to give her, anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

_Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't.__

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_

The low light in Raines' office was making Lyle's eyes sting as he and Raines discussed _his _project with _Pops._ Whatever nonchalant declarations he had made to Riley in the elevator, he wasn't nearly so confident here-- and he just couldn't make them see that. Riley might _not _be ready. He sat on a corner of the desk, hands in his pockets, mind racing a mile a minute. They had just finished watching both Riley and Jarod's versions of the simulation, doing a final comparison. Lyle hadn't actually watched Riley's that closely, he really didn't need to; he remembered everything that went on in that room. Come to think of it, he had almost all of Riley's entire life burned into the back of his mind. She was his project and he had seen almost all of her life like it was his own.

"You called the Triumvirate." He spat at the older man, wondering what Raines could have been thinking. This could be the death of all of them. "What if this was a fluke? Riley's hardly practiced enough to be capable of what you want out of her. She isn't ready for a presentation in front of the Triumvirate. She hasn't even successfully Simmed Jarod yet--"

"It wasn't a _fluke_." Raines hissed, interupting Lyle mid-sentence. "If she can reach a conclusion once, she can reach it again. She knows what's at stake. She won't dissapoint us."

"Oh, she won't want to. But you can't force her to be smarter than she is by threatening her." Lyle argued, trying to impress on the man what a suicidal error this might be.

"She has already proven herself to posess that grade of intelligence. All she needs is a motivation to maintain that level of performance. She won't push herself if we do not drive her to."

"The spotlight this news will bring from the Triumvirate certainly will change things." Lyle conceded, tired of trying to make his point to a resisting audience. There wasn't much he could do anyway, Raines had already notified the Triumvirate-- it wasn't as though they could take back the information. In any case, his opinion on the matter was obviously a moot point where Raines and Mr. Parker were concerned; Lyle may have been Riley's mentor, but Raines was the director of her project, and unfortunately, what he said went. Every other decision they had ever made concerning Riley's project, Raines had held something over Lyle's head-- he knew too much. He couldn't truly argue against the man without fear of placing himself in danger. One tip to the feds about Lyle's extracuricular activities and his life was shot.

Still, this damnable project could unravel every bit of hard work he had done over the past eleven years, and he couldn't afford that. Riley was his ticket to the top. He wouldn't lose that now.

"I don't see how this could possibly change things for anything other than the better." Mr. Parker couldn't help but smile at the thought of having a pretender with the potential to become greater than Jarod.

"No, you see this could have negative effects on her psyche; having her pretend to be a pretender that was _better_ than she was, well that was just a learning experience." Lyle tried explaining, though his frustration was evident in the muscle ticking in his jaw. He got up from the desk, running his hands through his hair, frustrated by the unforeseen problem. All these years thinking she was _lesser _than Jarod, and here, on this first SIM, she had managed to surpass him. She had a better understanding of the current technologies, but it shouldn't have affected her timing by that much. With the Gemini Project, it had only given him an edge by something under a minute, hadn't it? Maybe she just had a better tap into her abilities than Jarod or his clone did. They'd certainly done enough experiments on her for _that _to happen... "Having her pretend to be a pretender that is _not as go_o_d_ as she is, could cause her abilities to diminish. I _for_ _one_ do not want to see that happen." He said, looking pointedly at Raines.

"That won't happen." Mr. Parker stated determinedly. "She becomes people of lower intelligence in all of her other SIM's and it has never effected her, this won't be any different."

"Riley was only pretending to be those people for a short period of time." He argued. "This will be prolonged exposure to the same mentality. She will react like any other pretender; she will adapt her psyche to fit his." He motioned over at Raines with his right hand, keeping the thumbless one firmly in his pants pocket. "We have proof of that; the whole reason Kyle became a psychopath was because he was exposed to the mentality of a psychopathic killer for an extended period of time." He told his 'father', sneering inwardly at the man's seeming incompetence. He couldn't believe sometimes that Mr. Parker had managed to hold onto the Centre as long as he had, but as he had also managed to thwart Lyle's own attempts at a coup, he must have been doing something right. Lyle turned away from the window he had taken to staring out of. "Now what we need to decide is if catching Jarod is worth losing the mental abilities of a Pretender who could surpass him."

"Catching Jarod is the most important issue, always has been, we need her to find him." Mr. Parker said, looking at Lyle as though challenging him to even attempt to pull Riley from the project.

"Hey," Lyle stepped back from the window with an indignant expression, "I want Jarod back just as much as you do, but I'm not willing to sacrifice a project I've worked eleven years on-"

"Who said that you had a choice in the matter?" Raines shot at the murderous young man, "Need I remind you that you are _not_ in control of this project."

Lyle was staring daggers at the man, sweet thoughts of murder and mayhem twisting themselves around his mind. He advanced a few steps on the older man, repressing those instincts for the moment with brutal force.

"I have more control over Riley than you ever will, Raines."

The older man sneered at him, before hissing in a low breath. "You control the girl, and _I _control _you._"

Mr. Parker looked about ready to tell Raines to shove it- no one controls a Parker, but Lyle cut in before he could. He didn't need dear old dad to fight his battles for him. He was practically shaking in anger at the mere insinuation, but didn't rise to the bait entirely- deciding instead to attack the man on a much more personal level. "I can't believe you agree with him," He said, indicating Mr. Parker with a sweep of his hand. "You've wanted an opportunity like this your whole life, a chance for one of your precious projects to surpass Jarod. If she continues with this program without any changes her abilities will diminish, and we can't be sure that it won't cause her to go into a full mental regression." He spewed. "What would you do if you forced her to continue with this program and you turned her into another Angelo, barely even able to form a complete sentence? You've gotten close enough to it with her in the past and you _know _it."

Raines approached him slowly, the squeaking wheels of his oxygen tank screaming for oil. "You know Lyle, you are completely replaceable, all I have to do is pick up with her where you left off."

"Oh, I'd love to see you try it; Riley wouldn't work with you even if she wanted to." Lyle spat at the man, "She wouldn't know how. Or don't you remember how long it took for me to get her to stop getting startled out of the SIM whenever I talked to her? And this time it would be worse, Sarah only worked with her for two years, I've worked with her for eleven. Face it, you need me, otherwise your precious little project is _useless_."

Mr. Parker now used his moment to step between the two of them, forced to literally pry the incensed men apart with a hand on each of their chests. "Okay, calm down, there has to be a way for the subject to work on this project and keep her sense of self, we just have to adapt the program." Mr. Parker attempted to calm down the dangerous men before him, wondering for a short moment why he had thought it would ever be so easy as just a 'have her do the project, nothing can go wrong.'

"I'm listening." Lyle stepped away from Raines, and away from his rancid breath, straightening his shirt as he did so.

By the end of the night they had neither a real plan, nor a real compromise-- not to Lyle's standards. He had been outvoted two-to-one that the assignment should be scrapped and given to a less extraordinary young mind; Riley wasn't the only genius at their disposal. Raines and Parker were both adamant though, that they should have their best project put to work on it, that returning Jarod was the sole objective. Lyle could understand their drive to have the irreverent man back in hand, but not at the cost of this project-- _his _project. All-in-all, Lyle felt he had lost a lot, won very little, and overall wasted the last three hours on pointless debate. He was feeling murderous, and it was not generally a good thing when Lyle was feeing murderous.

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Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallible. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you... 


	9. Chapter 9

_Forsyth's Second Corollary to Murphy's Laws: Just when you see the light at the end of the tunnel, the roof caves in.

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_

Her shoes clicked against the concrete floor regularly as she hurried swiftly down the hall; they made the perfect sound, the kind that only three-inch tall heels could properly make-- the sound of authority and power. Parker had both, and she would need them both if she were ever going to be able to do what she planned right now. _God, what _was_ she planning right now? _Sydney was right, she shouldn't be interfering like this-- and Broots was right, Raines would probably take it out on Riley; but only if she was caught. And Parker did not intend to be caught at _anything._

She kept to the shadows of the hallways, creeping through the wide access door that led to the main corridor of the floor. Now that she had reached the limit to her access, SL 20, she was hard pressed to avoid the security cameras. SL-25 was one of the most secure levels in the Centre; it was the deepest level that didn't require refurbishing, although the accommodations were less than satisfactory. It was easy to access for her handlers and hard to get out of for the girl. Three hours ago, Parker would have seriously wondered why Raines and Lyle kept this kid under such tight restrictions, but that was three hours ago. After the discussion she had had with her two compatriots in the pursuit team's main office, she'd believe anything.

_"Have you found anything yet?" She asked, annoyed with the slightly defeated tone that had crept into her voice. Broots must have heard it, because his answer came out sounding more determined than she could ever remember him being before. It was as though the computer's lack of answers had somehow personally affronted him. _

_"Nothing yet. But I will. Don't worry." He told her, not even removing his eyes from the glowing monitor. He rubbed his palm across his mouth, biting a thumb nail in thought, then finally swiveled a bit to look back at her. "I can't even imagine... I mean, that little _kid--"

_The doors swung open just then, and __Sydney__ entered, holding a green folder open in his palm. He caught the final words of the sentence and closed the file, taking a seat on the couch. "She's hardly a child anymore Broots." He said bitterly. "She's been working under Lyle and Raines most of her life, whatever innocence she had to begin with, it's probably long gone by now. Besides," He tapped the folder he had just tossed down atop the desk. "It says right here that she's fifteen." _

_Parker snatched the folder up and he let her. "Her file?"_

_Broots came over from his computer with a confused look. "But __Sydney__, how'd you get it?"_

_Sydney__ lifted his shoulders a bit. "Well apparently, due to circumstances beyond their control--" _

_"I thought that was _**impossible**._" Parker quipped._

_He rolled his eyes and continued. "--Lyle and Raines feel that she may need some psychiatric help as she continues this simulation." _

_Parker gave him an incredulous look. "She's survived without a shrink before, what makes them think that she'll need one now?" _

_"Probably the fact that all other extended pretends have ended in the pretender taking on the personality of the person in the SIM indefinitely. And of course they don't want their beloved, obedient, project becoming another Jarod." He said in a mildly sarcastic voice._

_"Oh no, because that would be just _**horrible**._" She snarked. And it would-- two pretenders calling her late at night with riddles to make Oedipus proud-- what a world._

_"Riley did one of Jarod's pretends this afternoon." __Sydney__ told her abruptly. _

_"And..." _

_"And... she finished before him."_

_-_

_-_

Parker wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands up and down, trying to keep out the coldness of the lower level and failing to convince herself that that was the only reason for her shivering. She looked discreetly around the corner; she had finally gotten to the right level, now she only had to get past the guard in front of the kid's door. She decided that discretion was the best option, no walking straight up and telling the muscular sweeper that she was the chairman's daughter and forcing her way through... no, she had tried that too many times in the past, it hadn't worked then and it wouldn't work now. Even if she did manage to get inside, the guard would just run off to tell Raines or Lyle, and she wouldn't get any chance to talk to the girl. She thought back to that afternoon, if the girl really wanted to talk about it at all...

-

-

_"Hey Syd," Parker called, looking up from a last page in the files, "What do you think these things are?" She asked, indicating the columns of gibberish running down the sheaf of paper. _

_He leaned over the desk at what she was looking at, "I couldn't figure that out either, it's a complete mystery to me." _

_Broots came to read over Parker's shoulder, the deviated septum in his nose clearly audible when he was so close to her ear. "Well that... that almost looks like..." He shot a glance at his computer, "But it couldn't be..."_

_"**What**, Broots?" She snapped, making him jump a little._

_"O-oh well, it just looks a lot like code." He pointed at the page a little shakily. "I bet these little dashes separate the passwords to different areas of her electronic file."_

_"And what, pray-tell, is on this **electronic file?"**_

_"Well everything... recordings, images, DSA's, probably even some biographical information. I mean, every Centre employee has one actually-- it makes sense they'd store her information the same way. It's the most secure form of filing I've ever encountered... which makes sense of why I've been having so much trouble with the disk." He said, taking the file up out of her hand and moving back to his computer. He entered the first series of code into the processor and a file folder opened, displaying dates and times in the information bar. "Yeah, it's like I thought, this code here, that begins with an 'S', stands for surveillance. And the numbers running after it must be the numerical dates in time it covers... these are pretty early; the first one starts in '89."_

_Parker hurried over when she saw he'd met with success. "Well play it Broots, what are you waiting for, permission forms signed in triplicate?"_

_He clicked on the topmost one and the screen flickered black, with only the grey time code in the corner showing._

**_5/12/1989_**

**_FOR CENTRE USE ONLY_**

_Parker stepped closer to the monitor, watching as the scene crackled to life. A young woman stepped over to the camera; she had dark hair and a cheery face, with just a slightly heavy jaw that made Parker think of chocolate chip cookies. She had a kindly look about her, and Parker felt as though she liked her immediately._

_"Two years since Project Silence began, the subject is now four years old, and is showing promise, more than any of the others. Training required to do simulations is to begin today. --"_

_The woman turned around as the door on the opposite side of the room opened, revealing a sweeper and a small girl. The girl looked warily up at the sweeper before sprinting over to the young woman, fumbling with something in her pocket as she did so. "Sarah! Sarah, look, I made something for you!" The girl was all smiles as she procured the object; it was a neatly folded piece of paper. Sarah took the proffered gift, opening it so that the camera could see over her shoulder._

_"Oh, Riley it's beautiful, you must have worked hard on this."_

_The little girl was bouncing on the heels of her feet, giddy with contained energy, she was the kind of child who needed to be running around, not staying in the same dusty halls over and over, hardly able to walk from her room to the lab. Parker took a closer look at the picture. It _was_ beautiful, done with simple Crayola's, but the texture and light in the picture, was absolutely _perfect_. It looked like the drawing of a four year old, but like the girl's genius-- it showed promise. The picture depicted the night sky, a whirl of various blues, purples, and even blacks. Pinpricks of white and yellow wax broke into the swirl of darkness, stars shining brightly in a way that captured the imagination. Parker could make out a few constellations; it even seemed to her that they were interacting with each other. Up in the corner a single star shone brighter than any of the others, it looked over the whole scene. The North Star maybe?_

_"It's supposed to be impre- impers- impresi-" The little girl stomped her foot on the floor in frustration at being unable to pronounce the word. Her teacher smiled indulgently down at her, trying to contain her mirth at the scene. "Quit laughing! It's not funny!" The child screwed up her face, trying to show the young woman how angry she was, but it only managed to make the scene more comical, and Sarah was struggling to stop her persistent chortles. Riley turned her back on her teacher and fled towards the stairs. Sitting down on them, she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her head on her arms. Her face was still scrunched up in fury, the kind that only the small have the passion to feel. She obviously hated being made fun of. Sarah finally succeeded in controlling her laughter, slightly distressed at having made the little girl feel ashamed. She walked over to the child, a sad smile on her face. Riley scooted away from her as she sat down, and once again turned her back to her._

_"Impressionism? Is that what you meant hon?"_

_"I'm not talking to you!" The girl growled out, sounding more like an animal than a little kid. "And I want **my **picture back."_

_"Oh come on kiddo, you know I didn't mean anything by it. It really is beautiful, I love it, I'm going to see if I can put it up on my filing cabinet, I've got the perfect space where I'll be able to look at it all day."_

_Riley turned her head tentatively around to look at Sarah, giving a hesitant smile. "Really?"_

_"Oh come on, when have I ever lied to you?"_

_"Well... That shot the doctor gave me hurt and you said it wouldn't."_

_Sarah frowned, "Okay, besides that."_

_"You said that the food around here would taste good, and it's icky."_

_The frown became slightly more pronounced, "And that."_

_"Okay. You said that sweepers didn't know how to talk so I shouldn't bother trying to have a conversation with them. But I tried talking with them in sign language, and one of them got so frustrated that he started yelling. If they can't talk how can they **yell**?"_

_Sarah's eyebrows furrowed in frustration "Oh please, I had to give you some reason not to talk to them, you wouldn't stop! You were keeping them from doing their jobs."_

_Riley was smiling again, really getting into the conversation "Or what about that time—" _

_"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry I asked." Sarah got up and moved to the center of the room, motioning for the little girl to follow her. She knelt down, placing her hands on the girl's arms, crouching so that they were at an equal eye level. "Riley, today we're going to begin doing something very important. I'm going to begin teaching you how to do a simulation."_

_"What's assimilation?"_

_Sarah chuckled at the gaffe. "No no no, a sim-u-la-tion. A simulation is a way to gain very important information, and has the potential to help people. Assimilation is the Borg."_

_"The what?"_

_Sarah chuckled lowly. "Nevermind, it's not important. What **is **important, is that you Riley, have a very special purpose in life. Not many people are capable of doing simulations, but you can. Do you want me to show you how?"_

_The girl nodded her head, "Uh-huh. But what do I do?"_

_"You pretend to be someone else, and you tell me what that person is thinking and feeling, what influences the decisions they make, and the things they do-- hang on a moment kiddo... just stay here." The door opening at the far end of the room interrupted her speech. Sarah stood up to go talk with the men who entered. Parker watched as Lyle and Raines stepped into the room, flanked by sweepers. It was silent, like the calm before the storm. A sweeper snuck up behind Riley, placing a hand over her mouth and pinning her arms behind her. Riley gave a muffled scream and struggled to get away. The noise alerted Sarah who turned around and began rushing over to her young charge._

_"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She screamed, pulling Riley away from the man angrily. Lyle caught her attention by undoing the safety on his gun and cocking it. As Sarah whirled around, the gun's aim shifted to her chest. The sweeper came over and scooped Riley up again, and Sarah could make no protest._

_"We're pulling you from the program; we don't feel that you are pushing the project in the right direction." Lyle explained. "Did you really think we wouldn't find out?"_

_"Find out?"_

_"Last night's little **excursion **Sarah. You were **seen. **You never should have tried to take what was ours; Say goodbye, Sarah." He said, raising the aim by only a few inches, he fired the gun and the bullet tore through her. She collapsed on the ground, blood gushing from the circular hole in her forehead._

_Riley escaped her captor with a heart wrenching scream. She ran over to Sarah's body, pounding her fists on the floor, sobbing. "Nonono, wake up! Wake up!" She shook the woman's shoulder roughly, oblivious to the dark stain seeping along the ground, soaking into her pant legs. The sweeper came to his wits and grabbed the young girl again, pulling her, screaming, away from the corpse. The camera caught her face as she finally looked up, and she was glaring at Lyle with an intense fury. Lyle looked indifferently back at her. The young girl's body shifted, and Parker could see, with years of training, what she was going to do. Riley blinked once, then she pitilessly elbowed the sweeper in the groin. He immediately released her arms, sinking to the floor, clutching at himself. Riley spun around, racing for the exit door. She pushed it open and began sprinting wildly down the hall. The camera turned to center on Lyle as he watched her retreating form._

_"Get sweepers down here, Now!"_

_Riley turned corners, zigzagging her way through the building, trying to avoid the men chasing her. She turned another corner, looking behind her to see if anyone was closing in, and ran into something solid. She stumbled back, startled, and looked up at the man she had run into. Lyle looked down at her; he grabbed her from the floor, tugging her to a standing position by her shirt. She looked absolutely terrified, but only to the point that she didn't look furious anymore, only angry._

_"You're never going to escape Riley. Never. You will stay here and work with me. And there is **nothing** you can do about it."_

_Riley kicked him in the shin, pulling from his grasp for a moment, but he grabbed the collar of her shirt, and picked her up in one fluid motion, walking down the hall, back in the direction of the lab._

_"No! No! I hate you! Let me go! Put me down! I'll never work with you! Never! You killed Sarah! You killed Sarah! Help! Somebody help me!"_

_"No one is listening Riley." He snarled, struggling to hold the girl as she twisted in his arms. "No one can even hear you. No one is going to help you. No one around here cares." _

_Riley kept screaming at the top of her little lungs, she was trying to hit him, trying to kick him, just trying to hurt him as much as he hurt her, but he had turned her around, so that she wasn't facing him. They finally reached the lab and Lyle kicked the door open, dropping Riley in the middle of the floor, where some sweepers quickly surrounded her, ensuring that no further escape attempt would occur._

_"You work with me now Riley."_

_No Way__! Let me go!" The stubborn child tried to push her way out of the circle of sweepers, failing in all of her attempts, they were quite simply too strong._

_"Riley stop screaming."_

_"Leave me alone! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Let go of me!"_

_"Riley stop screaming or you will find that you can hate me a lot more."_

_"There's no way that I could ever hate you more! One person can't have that much hate! Let me go! I'm not working with you!"_

_Lyle slapped her across the face, sufficiently causing her to quiet. She sat, stunned, breathing harder and harder as tears sprang into her eyes. "Now Riley, I mean it. Stop screaming."_

_Parker stopped the DSA; she couldn't watch it any more. There had been parts of it that were just too... similar. Too similar to the way her own mother had died. Next to her, __Sydney__ looked as though he were physically sickened, and Broots had stopped watching a minute ago, she had heard him step out of the door muttering about 'child abuse' and 'Debbie'. _

_-_

_-_

Parker watched as the sweeper got a call on his walkie talkie, and began walking down the hall, she had clearly heard the words 'shift change' and rushed over to the door. She punched in the code for the keypad; Broots had found it in his search of the file folder's contents, and she was suddenly, very, very, thankful. She heard a small 'beep' right before the door opened and darted inside. Parker looked distastefully around the bland chamber. It was a prison cell furnished to look like a room. It looked much as Jarod's had, grey concrete walls, a small toilet area, a table pushed up against the walls, and a thin mattress atop a metal frame. The rooms were kept barren; there were too many tools that could be found in a regular bedroom. The pretender she had come to see was not in the room at the moment, though the schedule said she should be here. Strange, that was. Parker thought back to the few nights previous, as Sydney had been walking her out to her car. It seemed that Riley got around as much as Angelo did.

She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling in frustration. It was probably for the better. She didn't know what she would have done anyway; it wasn't like she had suddenly decided to whisk her away from the Centre. She couldn't, she'd probably be killed, and she couldn't imagine what would be done to Riley. She looked around the room one last time and her eyes rested on a pile of papers. She walked over and realized that they were drawings; the girl's skill had only improved with time. Before her eyes lay almost perfect portraits of her, Sydney, and Broots. Parker noticed with a slight curling of her lips that her portrait portrayed her looking a bit more sinister than she was used to seeing.

_Don't hold back kid, tell me how you really feel._

Sydney could have a field day with these.

Parker spun around and pulled her gun as she heard a clatter from the vent. She stepped closer to the large metal grate, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of movement, but there wasn't any-- none at all. She waited a few more tense moments before re-holstering her 9mm at her back.

"Alright Angelo, you don't want to come out today, that's just _fine _by me." She said with a huff, crossing her arms in front of her, but she let her hands drop limply to her sides after only a moment; she had thought that would get the empath to come out, usually to say his name was to conjure the little man up, but that method was apparently no going this time. She turned to head out the door, but paused as she reached the threshold; what if it was Riley? After all, there were two empaths running around the Centre now, weren't there? She went back over to the desk, standing just parallel to the vent, making as though she were looking over the ink-design portraits again. She picked up the pen on the desk and quickly scribbled a line on the back of her own, then slipped it to the bottom of the pile. She sent a short look over at the vent grating, then turned heel and headed back out the door.

-

-

Riley crawled through the vent shaft, stopping to breathe just a moment. She'd overheard the sweepers in the break room arguing over who was going to go get 'the kid' and dare meeting with Mr. Lyle. They'd finally agreed to ask Willie to go do it when he got in, and Riley had left before he'd even shown up. It was a good thing that the sweepers had unwittingly given her a head's up, because she hadn't expected to have another simulation that day. She reached the up and down shaft that would take her down a floor, back to her room, and after easing herself out on the ledge, dropped to land cat-like at the bottom. The vents made a horrible clanging sound when she landed, and she hurried over to the grate in her wall, to slip into the room quickly in case anyone had heard and decided to investigate. As she reached the room though, she noticed that someone was already in it. Her heart leapt into her throat-- it was Miss Parker. Oh no, she'd tell Mr. Lyle that Riley wasn't in her room, and then she'd be in trouble-- _again. _And he'd already been so mad at her lately for disobeying them; he'd probably do well on his threat and send her to the Renewal Wing.

"Alright Angelo, you don't want to come out today, that's _fine _by me." Miss Parker said, and Riley dropped back along the side of the vent, so that the woman wouldn't see her. What was she gonna do? What if she slipped back out once Miss Parker was gone? Mr. Lyle and the woman didn't get along at _all; _maybe Riley could just deny she had ever left? Or would that just land her in worse trouble if the truth came out? She leaned over and peered back out of the grate, to see if Miss Parker had gone. The woman had instead, dropped back to Riley's desk, and was looking over the little doodles Riley had done in her spare time. She picked up a pen and scratched something out on the back, then quit the room.

Riley cautiously opened the vent grate and then slipped down to the floor, replacing the vent cover as silently as possible. She went over to the paper Miss Parker had placed on the bottom and flipped it over to read whatever the woman had penned there.

**_I won't tell a soul._**

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Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallible. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you... 


	10. Chapter 10

_Addition to Murphy's Laws: In nature, nothing is ever right. Therefore, if everything is going right ... something is wrong._

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Jarod unlocked the door to his apartment, grabbed some leftovers from the fridge and promptly began digging into the cold Chinese food; manuevering the chopstics like an expert, which he of course, was. He stripped, one handed, out of his work clothes. He was a lawyer at the moment, or rather he had been a lawyer, and his pretend was over now. It was about time that he left the boring suit in exchange for some normal attire; he couldn't help feeling like a sweeper every time he looked in the mirror, which was an unnerving experience to say the least. 

He looked at his computer, startled, as he heard the electronic voice say 'You've Got Mail'. Jarod walked over to his laptop warily and opened the file, his confusion marring his features obviously. He hadn't e-mailed anyone as of late, so why would someone e-mail him? Jarod had been slightly more... cautious... since he had met up with Lyle in the desert. One stupid mistake on his part had killed his little brother, and this time he didn't have someone to help him out of losing his thumb and his freedom. He did, however, still have plenty more people to lose.

He clicked the icon, and was relieved upon seeing the message was from CJ. He knew no one knew about his and Angelo's correspondence, and in any case, they would probably use his name, not his fake persona that he had gotten from a Cracker Jack box. He read the message, a feeling of foreboding growing with every word.

**Can't let them do it again.**

**CJ**

It was short, sweet, and to-the-point, just like his friend. Jarod had no idea what that meant, had no idea where he should even begin to speculate. He wasn't sure, but the message from Angelo had made it sound urgent. He thanked his friend silently, because if he hadn't e-mailed him, Jarod would have never known about it.

Jarod logged into the Centre's mainframe, listening to the 'beep. beep. beep' as his computer hacked its way through the various security devices and upgrades. His computer came up with a flashing sign.

'SYSTEM FAILURE' : access denied. Connection terminated in 5...4...3...2...1...

Now that was odd, they must have changed the system, because that had certainly never showed up before. He could probably work around it, but he didn't have the time, and the system would send out an alarm if he got it wrong, he had one chance and that wasn't enough. Jarod stared perplexedly at the screen for a moment before contemplating throwing a complete and total tantrum. He couldn't believe that the Centre had finally grown some brains and decided that they weren't going to let him sneak in undetected anymore. Furthermore, if he couldn't get the information he wanted from the mainframe by hacking in from the outside, that would mean he'd have to go back to the source of the problem, the Centre, the building that haunted his days and nights indiscriminately wherever he went. Jarod silently cursed Broots, he was the only man he knew of who could possibly find a way of cheating Jarod's computer system.

Jarod turned back to his computer to hack his way back out, but the screen turned blank even as his finger reached out to the keys. The hard-disk gave an angry hum and the indicator lights on his machine went out completely. Jarod disconnected his laptop from the phoneline, and sat over on the couch, PC set out on his lap. He re-opened it and hit the power button, waiting as the computer took stock of it's processes and opened executables. An angry message popped up, telling him "Don't you EVER shut down this computer like that again Young Man or your files and unsaved data may be lost permanently!" and that responsible owners pulled down the option from the start menu before turning off their computers. Jarod ignored the irate computer and clicked the okay button to get the message to go away. He opened the task manager with a CtrlAltDelete and took stock of the programs he had running. Sure enough, at the very top of the list of programs with the most memory usage, there was an executable that had absolutely no business on Jarod's hard-drive. Jarod clicked on the file labelled CntrRe-hst and hit 'end-process'. He wavered the default question his computer popped up with "Are you sure you would like to end process of 'CntrRe-hst--exe.'? This could have undesired effects upon other files on your computer."

The process ended, but popped up once again at the bottom of the list as 'CntrRe-hst2'. Jarod's shoulders sagged a bit as he stared at the screen with a growing sense of annoyance.

"Broots. You're a dead man."

He cleared it again, only to have it pop up once more as 'CntrRe-hst3'. God it was probably a tracking agent. How it had managed to be placed on Jarod's computer, he didn't know-- because somehow, the virus would have to get through his own formidable security systems. He couldn't think of anyone smart enough to do that, until his mind crept back to the e-mail.

_Can't let them do it again..._

The Centre had a new pretender. He quickly shut off his computer and unplugged it from the wall, entertaining the thought of dismantling it fully to ensure the tracking agent didn't have any way of surviving. Instead, he turned back to his chinese, a frown crossing his face. Thoughts whizzed through his mind as he mentally planned his latest excursion to the Centre. The fact that they had decided to change the security system left a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, he knew that the thought to change their systems would have stemmed directly from the need to hide something. Well so far they were doing a pretty effective job, but not for long.

* * *

Reviews are always appreciated, and if everyone's a critic (including you, dear reader), then what's to stop you from reviewing? Ha! My logic is infallible. The friendly purple button... it beckons to you... 


	11. Chapter 11

_Gumperson's Law: The probability of anything happening is in inverse ratio to its desirability._

_

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_

Lyle grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and pulled it on, preparing to leave his office for the day. He was surprised by how easily things had been going, it had been almost a month since the project began, and while the pursuit team had not gotten any clues from Jarod, his part of the assignment was going great. Riley was consistent in finishing the SIM's before Jarod-- the first hadn't been merely a stroke of luck; He had no indication that Jarod had found out about her yet; Riley was scheduled to have a meeting with the Triumvirate soon, and she had not acted up at all since the briefing day, so he could only hope that the meeting would pass uneventfully, and they would be allowed to resume their daily lives. It was almost too good to be true, which was why Lyle didn't trust it. He opened the door to his office, and paused just before he left. He could have sworn he saw something in the vent, and fell prey to a sudden twitchy feeling that he was being watched. He shrugged it off, grabbing a box of old DSA's as he left the room. It was probably just Angelo.

Jarod moved out of the shadows, thanking whatever deity would listen that Lyle had finally left. He was a little irked by the sound of the shutting and locking door, the mixture of darkness and the lock clicking was all too familiar and Jarod had to stop himself from running back into the ventilation system. He hated the feeling of being trapped. He tumbled out of the vent after reminding himself that he could leave this time, anytime he wanted. He gave the office a cursory glance, and went to work. He picked the lock on Lyle's filing cabinet first, he really didn't expect to find much on what he was looking for, come to think of it- he really didn't know what he was looking for in the first place, he just knew that something was up. Seeing as all of the deep dark secrets of the Centre always had something to do with either Lyle or Raines, he decided to start there. He had planned on searching Lyle's office first, after his accident with the virus he had contracted the last time he had gone searching in the mainframe. To Jarod's extensive knowledge, Lyle had some sort of a phobia when it came to technological progress, and was therefore the first person to come to mind that would not place sensitive material into the database. He did, however, have several filing cabinets.

Jarod tried the first drawer, tugging at it and sifting through the contents, though nothing seemed to present itself. After a good ten minutes of searching in the same ineffectual manner, Jarod got lucky. Pulling out the bottom drawer of what must have been his fourth filing cabinet, a file dropped out from below it.

Jarod picked himself up off the floor where he was sitting and gathered up the contents (they had spilled about messily) of the file. He almost did a double take upon seeing what those contents were, _almost_. Lying on the ground before him was a green file, in the corner; written in a messy scrawl were the numbers _12-24-85__ subject 15 beta_. Jarod carefully picked up the file, making sure that nothing fell out. He sat down at Lyle's desk and prepared himself to look inside. The corners of the file were crinkled and dog-eared, and looked as though they had been thumbed through on several occasions. He opened the file and began to read, though by the time he was finished, he wished he hadn't.

The file was a report, and explained in full the Centre's newest pretender. Words and phrases jumped off the page at him--

**... confident... artistically gifted... temperamental... stubborn... cooperative under correct conditions... sociable... shows predisposition of pretender traits... has great promise...**

Jarod scanned down farther, past the notes of what he could only assume her mentor had written. He flipped a couple of pages, stopping at a page that seemed to detail where she had come from. His name was listed under 'genetic donor'. It was both incredible and horrifying; and his emotions seemed out-of-place and weak next to the apathetic, uninspiring report. His feelings soon burned down into raw fury at the invasion--They had done it again! Taken a part of him, to keep locked up in the Centre forever. His grip on the file tightened, his hands shaking in rage. He violently flipped further through the pages, until his eyes came to rest on another psychiatric analysis. This one was from a few years later.

**...Subject is withdrawn... avoids questions... shows unrivaled pretender traits... unusually quiet... apathetic outlook... removes herself from uncomfortable topics... shows signs of mental/ physical abuse, should undergo touch therapy... artistically gifted... confident in abilities, but uncomfortable around adults/ strangers... cooperative towards handlers... a little diffident**

Jarod stopped reading. This report was almost themirror twinof the previous one; he couldn't imagine what the Centre had done to this little girl_ (His little girl...)_ that could have possibly changed her so much in so little time... No, he could. He could imagine exactly what they might have done and that was the problem. He re-read the part talking about the abuse... he could imagine easily the implications of those words, and he didn't want to. He flipped the page to the most recent area of updates. Under the title _Project Coordinator_ Raines had scrawled out his signature, and just below that the title of _Project Handler _went to Lyle. Bile rose up in Jarod's throat and he threw the file angrily across the room, leaning back in the desk chair and pressing his hands over his eyes. God, how could he have let it happen _again?_

-

-

Lyle unlocked the door to his apartment, struggling with the key, the door handle, and the box of disks; the absence of his left thumb only making things more difficult. He finally succeeded and stepped inside. The sterile cleanliness of the room would have made most people sick, but to him it felt comforting. The pervading smell of bleach hit his nose and he remembered the bloody puddle that had been cleaned up last week. Blood was a horrible stain to try to get out, you had to catch it before it dried and set in, and you could almost never be certain that you had gotten every drop; it tended to splatter in the strangest patterns. Bleach was really the only thing for it; to erase all the evidence, and in order to be sure, you really did have to clean the whole area.

Lyle deposited the box on his coffee table and shrugged out of his jacket, kicking off his shoes and padding in his socks into the kitchen area. He grabbed a box of leftover Chinese from the fridge, and walked into the other room, picking up his DSA player as he went. He had seen Sydney go over old DSA's of Jarod as a child, and had watched Parker scoff at the old man as though he were entering senility. But Lyle thought that he might be able to understand the older man's disposition—not that he had anything in common with _Sydney _of course, but he felt that he could sympathize... perhaps. There was always a little bit of need to go over your life's work and try to tell yourself that it wasn't pointless; that there was a reason for it all, and it seemed to Lyle that these pretenders were the closest things that could ever tell them what that point might be.

_Maybe I'm just nuts... Well now there's a thought_

Lyle chose a disk to play and inserted it into the machine, he hadn't even looked at the date on the DSA, he just chose one. He knew that he would recognize the event immediately; he knew every single one by heart. The screen crackled to life and he watched as a room materialized, and a little girl appeared on screen.

_FOR CENTRE USE ONLY_

_5/27/89_

Lyle knew this day, Riley had tried to run away about two weeks after Raines had sanctioned the termination of Sarah, she had been caught within an hour of her leaving the building, and then she had been taken to the renewal wing. Raines had erased her memories of Sarah's death, but not her memories of running away... Those she kept, on the basis that they would punish her for it and she wouldn't do it again. Raines had been right of course, so Lyle had never said anything about it. But he had been young there, and fresh from his own dealings with _Mr. Lyle _his foster father, and the abuse they had doled out on that little girl had rankled somewhere deep inside him. But Raines was right-- it worked. And that was most important, because Lyle needed Riley to work. What he was now watching had taken place about three days after her run. This was the day that he introduced himself to Riley... for the second time. Lyle turned off the DSA player, he didn't need it for this one, he could remember it, the detail, the feeling, the thoughts behind the actions; every sound, scent, look. Everything.

-

-

_The small girl sat on her bed, swinging her legs back and forth and staring at the ground. All of her toys had been taken away; because she had run, and her whole body hurt really badly... she had never been punished for _**anything**_ before... They'd left her in isolation for an **entire day**. And then... and then... She shifted on the bed and swiped at the tears welling up in her eyes. Her back was horribly sore, and moving only made it worse. Angry welts covered it, and her lower lip had only just stopped bleeding the night before. She was never going to run away again, that was certain. She didn't know why she had run away in the first place; she couldn't remember it at all._

_Her little head lifted up as someone entered her room and she wiped again at the tears on her face before looking up at the young man who stood before her. She flinched at the sight of him and she didn't know why. He crouched down in front of her, lifting up her chin so that their eyes met. _"_Hello Riley. My name is Mr. Lyle; I'm going to be working with you for a while."_

"_Where's Sarah?" Her voice was quiet, and her eyes sank back down to the floor._

"_Sarah's been transferred to a different project... she won't be working with you any longer."_

_The girls eyes widened a bit and she started to protest. "But... but..." Her eyes started tearing up again and Lyle wiped one away for her._

"_But what Riley?" He asked, keeping the kind tone in his voice, pretending as though he cared._

_The girl sniffed pitifully. "She didn't even say goodbye."_

_Lyle intentionally placed a hand on her shoulder, and partially on her back. Riley flinched involuntarily and her body stiffened automatically as she let out a small whimper of pain. He took his hand off immediately, arranging his face into an apologetic look. That bit hadn't actually been his idea, really none of this had. He had allowed Raines a sample of his DNA little over eight years ago, though he had never signed up for baby-sitting detail. And now Raines had him here, and Lyle wanted nothing more to do with it. The whole deal was screwed up, but he was in it for the long haul, and she needed to learn that she had been punished because she had done something wrong, or that's what Raines had said._

"_Oh, I'm sorry Riley. I didn't realize-"_

_Her eyes came up to meet his; it was the first time anyone had apologized to her in days._

"_That's got to hurt." He said, he could imagine. His... Bowman... had never actually taken a belt to him, but it was hardly an uncommon practice among some of the parents of his old town. Hicks._

"_Uh huh..." Her lower lip trembled and her face contorted into a look of abject misery, Lyle could tell that she was trying to hold back tears._

"_I'm sorry kid, but this is what happens when you do something wrong."_

_Riley hugged her knees to her chest, and wiped at her nose, trying not to cry, she hadn't even known that she had done something wrong; she could sort of remember running away, but she didn't know why, or how, all she knew was that she had. Some small part of her was inclined to think that it had never really happened in the first place."I'm really, really sorry." She sobbed at him, burying her face in her arms._

"_Why are you sorry Riley?" He asked her, he had to make sure that she learned this lesson well._

"_I'm sorry for running away, and I'm sorry everyone's mad at me, I don't even know why I did it. I won't do it again! Promise..." she mumbled the last bit, and Lyle almost didn't catch it._

"_You really had us worried Riley; we didn't know where you were, or where you were going. It's dangerous out there for you..."_

"_But why? Why is it dangerous for me and not anybody else? Why can't I go outside? It isn't fair." The little girl folded her arms across her chest, and glared at him._

"_First of all, stop looking at me like that-" Lyle told her sternly, "It's disrespectful and disobedient. That's why you were punished in the first place. You disobeyed us when you ran away, and furthermore you disrespected our wishes for you to stay here... You upset a lot of very important people Riley."_

"_But-- but why can't I go outside, maybe I wouldn't have run away if you told me why I'm never allowed to go outside, at least then I would have had a reason not to." She insisted._

"_It's dangerous for you to be outside because you are what is known as a pretender; you automatically assume the personalities and character traits of the people around you... It's dangerous because if you get around too many people, you could hurt yourself. It's dangerous because someone could trick or force you into doing something wrong, and you wouldn't be able to stop yourself. Riley it's in your very nature. Pretending, that is what you do, it's who you are, and there is nothing wrong with that... as long as you stay in a controlled environment... as long as you stay here." He told her, reciting the key points Raines had given him. The old man had prepared him for practically any question Riley might have for him, and what Raines didn't tell him Lyle could fill in for himself. He knew that this initial conversation was instrumental to their plan for her in the future; he had to get it right. She was going to be important in his rise to the top._

"_But-"_

"_There are no buts about it, Riley, you need to stay here. Here we can use your talent to do great things, here we can protect you, and ensure that your talent is allowed to grow, here we can keep you safe, but we need your cooperation."_

"_It's still not fair." Riley grumbled under her breath, and Lyle knew that he was botching up his job; if he kept allowing her to disrespect him then she would make it a habit, she wouldn't know that it was wrong. And it was imperative to the project that she pay him respect, she needed to be obedient. But he still couldn't quite bring himself to hit this little girl, she'd hate him! And he was still working on earning her trust-- trust that he needed if his plans were going to work. God if he didn't get her to stop Raines was going to come down! Lyle heard the door unlocking, and pivoted slightly to look behind him._

_Too late._

-

-

Jarod crawled through the ventilation shafts in the direction of Sydney's office, he reached the correct grate, and saw that his old mentor wasn't in his office, but his briefcase was, and that meant he was still here. Good. He opened the vent cover and dropped silently onto the floor; moving back into the shadows to avoid any cameras.

Some time later Sydney walked back into his office, humming something quietly to himself. He looked as though he were packing up for the night. Jarod stepped out of the shadows slightly, but it didn't matter, Sydney's back was turned to him anyway.

"Long time, no see, Sydney." Jarod watched, slightly amused, slightly worried, as his mentor nearly jumped out of his skin.

Sydney turned around, a smile on his face and a hand over his heart, as though to stop it from leaping out of his chest. "Jarod! Oh my- how are you? Where have been? What are you doing here?" Sydney looked a strange mix of excited and concerned.

"Tell me you didn't know about this." Jarod held up the green file he had 'confiscated' from Lyle's office. "Just tell me you didn't know, please Sydney." Jarod looked at Sydney pleadingly; he could almost live with it if Sydney just told him he didn't know.

_Please...Please_

Sydney looked at the folder in Jarod's hand; it was Riley's. He had known how upset Jarod would be, had known what it would do to him to know that not only had a member of his family been kept at the Centre, but he, Sydney, the person whom Jarod had placed his trust in, hadn't gone to the trouble to tell him.

Sydney looked the desperate young man in the eye, knowing that he could apologize for this the rest of his life, and Jarod would never forgive him.

"I did know--"

"No! Dammit Sydney! No! Why didn't you tell me?" Jarod slammed the fist holding the file onto the desk in anger, turning his back on the older man and struggling to control the urge to start screaming. "Wh-Why? Please- Just... just tell me-- How could you! After everything you've done to me-- what, was it not enough? _Answer me!_" He kicked furiously at the waste paper bin on the side of Sydney's desk, and it flew into the wall, scattering crumpled bits of paper.

Sydney watched the pretender pace around the room, he was clearly about to lose what little control he had managed to retain- and why not? The Centre had taken everything else from him, why not strip him of his dignity as well? Sydney finally managed to steer Jarod into a chair, trying to calm him down. Jarod was running his hands through his hair, his face screwed up in fear and confusion. Sydney watched the young man teeter closer and closer to the edge of a mental breakdown.

"Jarod-"

"Don't Sydney, just don't!" Jarod spat at him, a distrustful look spanning his features.

"Jarod I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you, but when did you expect me to? You changed your email address, and you haven't called me in three weeks. Please-- I couldn't just tell you when you called-- the walls have eyes around here!"

"Stop-it Sydney."

"Jarod would you just listen to me? Please? I didn't even have information on her yet!"

Jarod stood up and began pacing again; he was still on the brink of losing it- he just couldn't stand that Sydney hadn't told him! Why? What? He couldn't find him the one time that it was important? He should have found a way! She was his daughter! She was a part of him, she was a missing part of him, and she was fifteen now and he hadn't even known she existed! The Centre had stolen part of him, part of his DNA and just created her! They created her just like they created the boy! What the hell had he ever done to deserve this?

"I have to get out of here. I've got to go Sydney."

"Jarod, please, don't go, not like this, you could hurt yourself, you could hurt someone else... Just stay." Sydney was on the verge of begging, but Jarod cut him off.

"Don't even start Sydney-- just don't go there."

"At the very least tell me where you're going. Jarod, I'm worried about you. Don't leave like this. Will you at least talk to me?" Sydney was worried, if he left now he could get himself hurt, he could get himself captured!

"Goodbye Sydney. I'll- I'll see you." Jarod left the way he came, closing the vent and leaving the same way he had originally escaped.

-

-

Lyle covered his eyes with his hands, leaning back into the couch and going over that day again.

_Standing in the doorway to the small room was Raines, flanked by two sweepers._

"_We need to talk." Raines wheezed at him, showing his cigarette stained teeth, and looking slightly lethal._

_Lyle looked once more at Riley, who seemed to be more than a little frightened by the appearance of the sweepers, Lyle couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid, if she had been handed over to sweepers for the past couple of days then it seemed that her anxiety was justified. He walked out of the room, relieved when he was followed by the two boulder-like men; he could hardly make the girl trust him, if he left her to the ministrations of those two, now could he?_

"_You aren't following the program..." Raines practically growled, his voice coming out low and guttural._

"_I..." Lyle tried to think of an argument that could stand up to Raines. "haven't, you're right. But she hasn't been told it's wrong yet. She doesn't even know that she isn't supposed to do that-- I can't punish her for something she doesn't know about-- I'd lose her trust." He said, and it was true, he would lose her trust. And her trust was imperative to the program. _

"_Then... inform her... before I do it for you..." Raines growled threateningly._

"_Sir, I don't think that I should be the person to do this to her," Lyle said. _"_If I'm going to be working with her she has to be able to rely on me... and she won't if I'm constantly badgering her... someone else ought to do this--"_

_"No." Raines interrupted quickly, wheezing for breath as he wheeled himself closer to Lyle. "It has to be you... You must be seen as an authority figure... **you **have to be disciplinarian."_

_"But if we're going to build the relationship we want with her, she has to like working with me-- she has to want to please me." Lyle argued, whispering the words through his teeth, so that the little girl in the room next to them couldn't hear. "She won't do that if I'm unreasonable."_

_"So **redefine** what's reasonable--"_

_"Listen, I already talked with her over this, and that's enough right now. If she does it again--"_

_"If she does it again... you will follow through with what **I **say."_

_"Fine. But right now, I'm doing this my way. We're through discussing it." Lyle turned on his heel and walked back into the room, and as he left, he could feel Raines' glare burning holes in him._

Lyle remembered the weeks that followed, how he had eventually earned the faith of this little girl, how she had been so eager to please him, and how Raines had taught him to mold her into a pretender, one that didn't care about the what the pretends she did involved. He had turned her into a murderer (though not directly) by age five. The phone rang in the next room and Lyle came to himself, pulling his mind away from memory lane, to realize that he was sitting in the dark. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal, except for the fact that when he had started the DSA player, it had been light outside. He glanced at the clock on his VCR; the luminous green numbers read 8 :30. He let the machine pick up the phone, loosening his tie and letting his head drop back onto the couch.

"Hey, it's Kim Che... from the other night at the restaurant? Um... anyway, you gave me your number and I decided to use it before I lost it... Call me back? You've got mine... um, bye."

Lyle looked over at the answering machine with interest... hmmm... Dinner tomorrow sounded... pretty.


	12. Chapter 12

_Zymurgy's First Law of Evolving System Dynamics: __Once you open a can of worms, the only way to recan them is to use a larger can (old worms never die, they just worm their way into larger cans)._

* * *

Riley panicked, thoughts of horrid punishment filling her head as she contemplated the daunting task before her-- how could they expect her to do this? _Jarod _probably couldn't do this! And neither could she! She looked over at where Mr. Lyle was standing against his desk in the SIM Lab. "I-I don't know what to do!" She pleaded, she needed him to understand; just this once, she needed him to expect _less. _

"C'mon Riley, you've read his file, and I know you can do this SIM, just get into his head." Lyle watched the pretender pacing around the SIM lab, he could tell that she really was having trouble; he had no reason to doubt her anyway, but if she couldn't find a way to get into Jarod's head, then this project would be ruined. Besides that, knowing Raines, he wouldn't give into her inability that easily. Lyle remembered how when she was younger, and just learning how to pretend, Raines had given her a project that was way over her head-- and he knew it too; it had been a test, he wanted to see what she would do. When she failed to run the simulation Raines had used some rather 'brutal' methods to force her to finish. Riley hadn't spoken to Lyle for a week, and he personally couldn't blame her, she had put her trust in him, and he hadn't been able to protect her. To this day Riley was terrified of Raines, of the power he held over her project; over her life. "Riley," Lyle got up from his chair and walked over to her, trying to help her get into Jarod's mindset, "Just ignore the SIM for a minute, I want you to try getting into Jarod's head first."

"I am trying, I really am! I just- I don't know what he's thinking, I don't think I can do this." Riley ran her hands through her hair in frustration, and Lyle was having a hard time keeping his temper.

"I know Riley, I know that you're trying, but we have to figure out how to do this, you have to figure this out or the assignment will fail, and you know what will happen if you fail." Lyle threatened her, she knew what would happen, boy did she. Riley had only failed them _once _in her entire life, and she was _not _going to allow history to repeat here. "Yes, I know- Mr. Raines- I know... but pressure really isn't helping at the moment." She answered him a little irately, her snarky side coming out in agitation. She looked at the floor guiltily when she realized what she had said, and her voice took on a more plaintive tone. "Sir, I don't- I can't figure him out. I need _help_."

Lyle had forced Riley to stop the pacing, but now she was just fidgeting all over, she was snapping her fingers quietly, and bouncing around on the balls of her feet.

"Riley stand still!"

Riley stopped moving instantly, her hands held open at her sides, eyes level, looking straight ahead, following his order before her brain had even processed her actions. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, trying to get rid of the nervous tension that was coursing through her.

"Okay, good." Lyle placed his hand on her shoulder, and she tensed up at his touch, relaxing very slowly when she realized that he wasn't going to do anything more than that. "Now, Riley I want you to close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, okay? I'm gonna see if I can help you get into this, alright?"

She followed his directions, and nodded her head at him, indicating that she was ready.

"Alright, that's very good, now Riley you've read his file, you are becoming Jarod at age 15, understand?"

She gave another small nod and he started trying to get her into 'SIM mode'.

"Okay, Riley I want you to let go of yourself now, I can bring you back, and I will, just let go. You're mind is going completely still, you aren't anything, you aren't anybody, you don't exist." Lyle could feel her finally loosen completely under his touch and knew that he could probably get her into Jarod's mindset now.

"You are Jarod, you're in the SIM lab, you're with Sydney, you're about to begin a SIM, now what are you thinking about? Become Jarod, Riley, what are you thinking? What are you feeling? You are Jarod."

Lyle watched Riley's eyes open and change slightly; they gained that faraway look that signaled she had entered the persona. Good, step one complete.

"Where are you? What are you doing?"

"I-I'm in the SIM lab, I'm about to begin the SIM, b-but I don't want to."

"Good Riley, that's good." Lyle had watched the DSA of Jarod this morning; he had to memorize the way Sydney had acted towards Jarod, and what he said, so that he could stay true to the SIM. It seemed that Riley had gotten into the mentality; but he could tell that she wasn't entirely sure of herself, her voice was a little shaky, and her body language looked like she was struggling with an internal battle.

"Now... What are you doing? What are you feeling?"

"I-I'm frustrated, I hate doing SIMs...I hate doing everything they tell me..."

Riley paused in her analysis and Lyle watched as she lost the objectivity she had been maintaining; she had fallen completely into the simulation. Good.

"I don't want to do a SIM today! Why can't I just be me? Just be _Jarod_ for a little while?"

Lyle watched as her body language became almost an exact replica of the Jarod on the DSA, her arms were folded across her chest in defiance, and her brows were furrowed, showing her anger and frustration.

"These SIMs are important, only you can do them Jarod, now become that man!" Lyle said his lines, every bit as involved in the SIM as Riley was.

"No! I don't want to; I want to be _me_ today! Why is it so important for me to always become someone else? I won't do the simulation and you can't make me!" Riley stamped her foot on the floor, clearly showing her distaste for the need of her cooperation.

"Jarod, what is he thinking? What is he feeling? Become the man Jarod!" Lyle said, as Sydney had tried to force Jarod into the pretend. Lyle had used this DSA as a 'manual' the first time Riley had ever refused a SIM as a child-- it was genius. The pretenders had perfectly moldable brains-- always open to the power of suggestion, all you had to do, was place them in the scene.

Riley clapped her hands over her ears, trying to resist the pretend but Lyle flicked on the projector on the wall, showing various pictures of a man, a fugitive, and some blueprints of a building, the area where the police had finally managed to catch up with him.

"No, stop... I won't do it, you can't make me! I'm not listening!"

"Relax, just relax. Become him, he's scared, alone, trapped. He's facing a future that terrifies him. What lengths will he go to avoid that? You know what he's thinking Jarod, just tell me."

"No. Stoppit, don't! I don't want to do this! Please just stop!"

Lyle watched Riley's declarations that she wouldn't do the simulation, turn to pleading, pleading that he wouldn't force her into the pretend, this was good; the pretend was headed in exactly the right direction.

Riley closed her eyes, trying to ignore the projections in front of her. Lyle walked around from behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders, and forcing her to listen to him.

"Become the man! What are you thinking? What will you do?" Lyle asked, waiting for Riley to move forward in the pretend and become the trapped convict, as Jarod had. But Riley, instead of dropping into the SIM that Sydney had forced on Jarod, rather snapped out of the pretend altogether. She returned to her own mentality, looking a little confused.

"Riley, the SIM isn't finished yet." He told her, walking around in front of her to look her in the face, "Riley, complete the simulation."

"I-I can't, I can't switch from Jarod's point of view to the man in the simulation. I can't juggle both personalities--"

"Yes Riley, you _can_." Lyle tried to appeal to the suggestible side of Riley's brain, trying to nudge the pretender part of her brain into completing the SIM. "You've become Jarod, and I know you can do this simulation, so become the fugitive.

"Please, Mr. Lyle, I don't know how to do this!"

"Riley, it's just a simulation; you _do_ know how."

"Sir, I-I can't, I've never done this before. Please, I don't know how."

"Riley, you didn't think that you could become Jarod a few minutes ago either, now finish the simulation."

"But-"

"Stop arguing Riley, or you will face the consequences. It is imperative to this project that you do the simulation. If you can't learn to be Jarod- if you can't be Jarod while he is pretending to be someone else- than you won't be able to SIM his capture. Riley, that is all Jarod does outside, SIM; the only difference is that he creates his own pretends, so in order for you to track him down, you need to be able to SIM him and his pretend at the _same time_."

"Sir, I'm trying, I _swear, _but I don't know how. I can't do this, I-I I just can't."

Lyle slapped Riley across the face, silencing the girl; she had to stop doing this, or she was going to be receiving a lot more than just a small beating, Raines would be after her blood and Lyle wouldn't be able to stop him. "Yes Riley you can. And furthermore _you will_, if you don't know how than I suggest you figure it out." Lyle looked up as the door to the SIM lab opened, he was expecting Raines; he knew that the man would not be as forgiving of Riley's inability to perform, but instead of the bald, chain-smoking, ghoul, he was greeted by Parker's sweeper, Sam.

Riley turned around as she heard a sweeper enter the room. The sweeper, Sam, she thought he was called, handed Mr. Lyle something before walking away; he never even said a word. Riley wasn't exactly surprised, sweepers weren't supposed to have very much contact with pretenders, at least not on a conversational basis, not that she'd want to talk to a sweeper in the first place, it seemed that all of the bad things that had happened in her life involved sweepers at some point or another, and some part of her brain, the illogical childish part, had deemed them unlucky. She watched Mr. Lyle read the paper, she couldn't tell what he was thinking though. She tried to empathize with his feelings, but she couldn't read them, they were too muddled, too confused for her to be able to unravel them.

"Riley, I have to go for a couple days-"

_Where are you going? _She wanted desperately to ask, but she knew it was a bad question; she wasn't supposed to question him or his judgment.

"The pursuit team has a lead on Jarod, and I'm supposed to go with them." Lyle looked up from the paper at Riley, not sure if he wanted to tell her the last part of the order. Too bad Riley decided for him.

"What about me? What do I do while you're gone?" Riley asked the question, though she already knew the answer, she would be forced to work with the same person she always was when he left--

"You will be working with Mr. Raines."

"But Mr. Lyle, I-I can't! Please, I've tried it before... he'll just be angry with me."

"Riley, you won't get in trouble as long as you work with him; it's just a simulation, just a normal SIM."

"But it's not normal!" She argued, raising her voice in her panic. "I can't even do the SIM while I'm working with you! Please, I don't want to work with Mr. Raines. Please... y-you don't know what it's like when you're gone--" She pleaded with him, she couldn't work with Mr. Raines, she just couldn't.

"Riley, stop arguing, you're working with Mr. Raines and that's final." Mr. Lyle ordered, and Riley's shoulders slumped, her head dropping to the floor in defeat.

"Yes Sir." She mumbled to the ground, accepting the inevitable.

Lyle turned around, grabbing his briefcase and heading for the door; he paused and turned slightly at hearing the pretender call his name-

"Mr. Lyle?"

"Yes?" He turned and looked over his shoulder as he shoved a few documents into the leather attaché case.

"Good luck."

Lyle left Riley with a nod and charged down the hallways at a fast clip, making his way to the Centre airstrip. He caught up with the pursuit team just as they reached the doors leading out of the Centre.

"You are not coming!" Parker glared at him, dislike plainly etched upon her face.

"Yeah I wish too. But you know what Parker?"

"What?"

"Shit happens." Lyle matched her step as they walked out onto the airstrip and onto the plane.

"You know, normally you love getting the chance to shoot Jarod and bring him back to this place." Parker looked him up and down as if she might see a sign saying 'I'm lying' hung from his neck, "Why the change of heart? Not getting soft are we?" She mocked. "Oh wait, this means she'll be working with Raines, doesn't it? No one else gets to beaton your little whipping post but you, is that it?"

"Parker, you know Angelo? And Kyle, I seem to remember you meeting him too... Or what about Dannie and Einnad?... All of them are Raines' projects. I suggest that you take that into consideration before you _ever_ question my motives about working with Riley again." He raged. He _did _hate leaving his pretender with Raines-- the man was too volatile. He played too many mind games with the girl. Riley was Lyle's ticket to the top, and he couldn't afford having her damaged.

"Raines wouldn't screw Riley over that bad; he still needs her to find Jarod-" Parker stated, trying to reassure herself more than anything.

"Let's just get this hunk of tin in the air; the sooner we get back the sooner I can prove you wrong." Lyle signaled to the captain and settled down in his seat. He hoped Jarod was still hanging around, because if they caught him now, they could scrap this assignment for Riley altogether.

Parker watched him from her seat across the aisle, but he didn't notice; he was looking out the window at the building they were leaving behind. She took in his tense posture, and the way his hand was running over the stump of his left thumb and it dawned on her.

He really was worried.


	13. Chapter 13

_Sattinger's Law: It works better if you plug it in._

_

* * *

_

Oregon was a muddy and not overly large puddle, Parker decided the next day as they arrived outside Jarod's apartment. It hadn't stopped raining since the plane had landed; she felt like a drowned cat, and the weather was positively ruining her clothes. The old brick building in front of her looked even worse than she felt, with moss growing between the bricks, and ivy slowly invading on the western front. The inside wasn't much nicer.

Parker ran up the stairs to Jarod's apartment upon hearing from the landlord that he was still occupying it, and crept over to his door, gun drawn, not willing to let another chance to bring him in slip away, especially not with Lyle there... She wasn't sure if he would try anything serious, like putting her in another T-Board, but she was quite positive that at the very least she would never live it down. Ever. He would be leering at her for the rest of his godforsaken days on Earth. She checked the door to the apartment as Lyle, Broots, and Sydney all caught up behind her-

_Locked! Dammit!_

_-_

_-_

Lyle ran up the stairs after his twin, only a few feet behind her, he ran into a long hallway, and watched as she made to kick in the door.

"Parker! Wait!" He shouted; trying to stop her before--

_Well, that's one way to get in._

Parker turned towards Lyle, peeved that he had interrupted her; if they didn't get in there fast Jarod was going to go out of the fire escape! Lyle gave her a condescending look that only served to make her even more pissed off at him, "Was that really necessary?" He asked her, holding up a brass key with his good hand.

"It was either the door or a certain part of your anatomy Lyle... I thought you'd be more appreciative of this choice." She told him through gritted teeth, stepping over the splintered mass of wood and into the apartment.

Lyle took a tiny step back from the threshold after she turned her back, taking the assault on his anatomy seriously. "Or you could just kick down as many doors as you like... no problem-" He muttered as he slowly followed her into the room.

-

-

Jarod pushed his piece of leftover lasagna into the microwave and set the timer, eagerly anticipating the Italian dish that he had only recently tried. He rummaged for a moment in the refrigerator, looking for some blue Kool-Aid he had made earlier. He snaked his hand past the piles of Hershey's chocolate bars, and slid the leftover sushi out of his way. When he ducked back out of the fridge, he had Kool-Aid in his hand. Jarod paused in his movements as he listened to what sounded like a heard of small elephants storming up the stairs. _Were the kids in 18B back from school already? _He checked his watch, **1:30 **Their school didn't let out for another two hours. He eyed the door warily and willed the pounding to pass, but then he heard the footsteps stop outside his apartment; he listened with baited breath as someone tried the lock. He knew now that it was Parker; she was going to kick down the door any minute now.

_Move! Or do you want to be taken back there?_

Jarod snapped out of his daze as he heard Parker slam down the door, he peered quietly from the kitchen and thanked Lyle silently for the distraction he so willingly offered. Jarod crept out into the living room and, grabbing the Halliburton case full of DSA's, silently climbed out of the fire escape in his bedroom. He jumped the last few steps to the ground and hesitated, he should leave, he really should, and yet there he was, waiting. Jarod paused for one more moment and counted silently to himself

_One, two, three, right on time._

He gave a mock salute as he saw Miss Parker at his window, then jogged down the alleyway and onto the sidewalk, setting to memory the look of her face, and the glow the sunlight had played out on her hair.

-

-

Lyle followed Parker inside, looking around himself with interest. The place was done up in the usual rat-boy d_écor, _with one wall being a tribute to a truly retched piece of mural art-- no doubt the genius had painted it himself, it was all dark and brooding; very Bruce Wayne. He stepped into the living room, looking around for any sign of the DSA's; if Jarod was still living here, than his DSA's would probably be somewhere in the open, easy to access should Jarod be found by the Centre and have to flee from his work... Well, it wasn't in the living room, though there were some rather obvious signs of habitation... A PEZ dispenser for one, but what surprised him was that the head had been replaced with one of Jarod's own design; it now looked like Lyle's own! Parker gave a frustrated cry from the area of the bedroom and stalked out.

"Don't even bother Lyle, he's not here!" She tossed some other PEZ dispensers at Sydney and Broots and, holding up her own, she looked at it and Lyle could have sworn she started to smile for a moment, but the moment faded and she went back to looking like her furious self. "Now this is just disturbing." She said, lifting up the top on hers and taking a candy.

Lyle flipped the top of his own PEZ head and looked inside, but instead of finding candy, "He left me a note." Lyle picked the miniscule folded piece of paper out of the candy dispenser and unfolded it, careful not to accidentally rip it in two.

"A note?" Parker looked at him incredulously, "Let me see it." She held out her hand demandingly, snapping her fingers as if to say 'hurry up!' Lyle ignored her, reading the message which was almost sure to be some taunting, two-liner which would probably hint at how evil of a person he was. What Jarod didn't understand, was that Lyle couldn't care one way or the other for his approval. Violence was a part of life, and Boy-Wonder needed to quit lamenting the horrible deeds of others.

**Sorry I couldn't wait around to see the look on your face,**

**But I had to catch a plane to Blue Cove. I think it's about time for a little Father-Daughter road trip.**

**Have your people call my people and we'll talk custody issues. Just ask for Dewey, at my law firm: Dewey, Cheatum, & Howe. The contact number is (666) 666-6666.**

**-J**

The bitter joke spoke of barely controlled restraint, as though Jarod wanted to tell Lyle that this didn't bother him one wit; because then it meant that the Centre couldn't get to him. Lyle knew better though-- Jarod was furious. He crumpled the note up and shoved it in his pocket, running out the door, Parker following him a few steps behind.

"Lyle where the hell do you think you're going? We haven't even searched the place yet! Lyle!" Parker shouted as she saw her brother turn the corner and run out of sight. She cursed, throwing her hands up on the air as if to say 'What deity did I piss off now?'

Lyle pulled his cell phone from his pocket on the stairwell and hit the speed dial, but his phone jammed halfway through the call. No, Jarod wouldn't allow him so easy a way out, would he? Damn. Beaverton was too small a town for payphones, and Lyle could just bet that the hotel had lost his room key, or perhaps any record of him staying there. He threw the phone down the stairwell in frustration, regretting it when the little device shattered upon hitting the bottom step. Jarod was a genius, but one thing that Jarod failed to understand, was that taking Riley outof the Centre and away from the only place she felt safe, would leave the girl scared. Desperate and scared.

-

-

Riley lay on her stomach in bed; trying to avoid aggravating any of the large welts that showed up like tiger stripes on her back. _Mr. Lyle, please come back soon... please. _The simulation she had attempted today had been gruesome, not the SIM itself, but rather what Mr. Raines had been doing to try to force her into cooperating. The only problem was that she was cooperating! To the best of her ability she was cooperating! She honestly couldn't figure out how to juggle both personalities, not to mention that she was unused to working SIMs with Mr. Raines! Every time he spoke to her she got jolted off track, his raspy voice was so different from Mr. Lyle's, and her brain couldn't accept it as part of the simulation. He was so foreign to her, and yet he expected her to run it perfectly! She hadn't even been able to run the simulation all the way through working with Mr. Lyle. Riley didn't know if she would be able to survive another day like this one, she didn't think she would be able to handle Mr. Raines' demands...

_"Riley... do the SIM!"_

_"I'm trying, I swear! I-I just don't-"_

_"Yes Riley you do know how... You have been running simulations since before most children are able to even speak in complete sentences... You know how to do this!" He glared at her, giving an almost imperceptible glance at one of the sweepers behind Riley, and the man moved a few steps closer to the girl in the middle of the room._

_"Please, Mr. Raines I honestly can't do it! I need to be able to practice! I-"_

_"No Riley! You are a pretender. You do not need **practice**. Because of your genius, you will never need **practice** at anything!" He glanced once more at the sweeper behind the girl, this time being obvious enough to capture her attention, "All you need is motivation."_

_Riley looked over her shoulder at the sweeper behind her and paled visibly._

_"Sir! Please... I swear I'm trying, I swear, but I don't know how to do this! Please! I just-"_

_"Run the SIM Riley! You can't talk your way out of punishment. You are the property of the Centre. It is your job to run these simulations. If you fail at your job you will be punished... Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"_

_Riley's heart nearly sank to the_ _floor, she couldn't pretend to be someone pretending to be someone else! It was impossible. Her head dropped to her chest, and she struggled to hold back the tears of frustration that were threatening to fall. "I'm sorry Sir, I can't." She kept her gaze on the floor, she knew what was about to happen, it happened every time she worked with Mr. Raines... It didn't matter if she saw it coming or not..._

_Raines looked down on the young girl, nodding one last time at the sweeper behind her. Some time later, after it looked as though the girl were going to bite through her lip from trying to hold back tears, Raines had stopped the sweeper, giving her one last ultimatum before having her taken back to her room._

_"Complete the simulation Riley, or this will only get worse."_

She was exhausted. The lights in her room had been turned out hours ago, and she was supposed to be sleeping, but she couldn't, she couldn't ignore the shooting pains running up and down her back. They must have known that she wasn't asleep; the camera in the corner of her room, which was normally set to scan or sweep the room while she was sleeping, had been focusing on her the whole night. Riley heard the guard outside her room saying something, and she felt a thrill of fear as she heard Mr. Raines' raspy voice answer him. She couldn't make out the words though, and part of her really didn't want to. Riley had to snap her eyes shut against the harsh florescent light that suddenly flooded her room and jolted up in her bed as she heard the sound signaling the door was about to open. She flinched slightly at the burning sensation that ran up her back at the movement, but a moment later she had her mask firmly back in place; showing any sign of pain would be a sure way to get Mr. Raines' temper up. Mr. Raines entered the room, eyeing her contemptuously- her 'ill behavior' that afternoon still weighing heavily on his mind. Riley shied away slightly at his unfaltering gaze nervously; her anxiety increasing as a sweeper followed him inside, it was Gar. Why did it have to be Gar? Gar hated her; he absolutely despised her with every atom of his being! Riley had inadvertently humiliated the man when she had run away before (he had been on guard duty), and he couldn't seem to let go of the past.

"Ready to cooperate yet Riley?" Mr. Raines glared at her, it was more of a statement then a question, and Riley didn't bother answering; what was the point? He would only lay into her again. "I'm sure you've thought of my proposition..." Raines taunted her, knowing that she hadn't been able to think of anything else. Riley knew that she had to figure out how to complete the SIM, at this point failure wasn't an option. In reality it never had been, but at least before she hadn't been in such dire straits. She gave a small nod, focusing her gaze on the floor and hugging her knees to her chest, Mr. Raines always made her feel as if he could see all the weaknesses that she tried to hide away inside of herself. "Good. The members of the Triumvirate have arrived. They flew all the way over from Africa, just to see you. They have been reviewing the simulations you have done previously during this assignment. This SIM is to be performed in front of them."

Riley's head flew up and she had to force herself from letting out the strangled cry of protest that she was about to give. She felt her chest constrict with fear, and she knew she was going to have to find some way to make him see that she needed more time... at the very least some more patience from him... She said she had thought about what he had said; she never said that she thought she could run the SIM! She walked in a dreamlike state as Mr. Raines herded her in the direction of the SIM labs, she felt as though she were having an out of body experience, just watching it all happen. She couldn't believe what was going on! She just couldn't! She needed more time, she needed... Mr. Lyle. She needed Mr. Lyle to be there. She needed his help; she had been thinking about the simulation all night, she had even practiced slightly, nothing big, in fact she had only just been fusing two simulations that she had completed in the past. But the point was that she had been able to switch the view points... sort of. She had been able to switch from one point of view to another, and had been able to maintain her own objectivity throughout, but she hadn't been able to keep all three going at the same time. She had been thinking about it though, and when she thought about it, she wouldn't need to maintain too much of Jarod's viewpoint, she just needed to keep it there... she only needed to keep it going in the back of her head at a minimal capacity so that she could go straight back into it when the 'SIM within the SIM' ended, she needed to keep his personality there the same way that she kept her own. It was a good plan. It was a great plan! But she needed fine tuning, and if she couldn't get that, she needed Mr. Lyle.

Riley came slightly back to herself as she entered the SIM lab, it was different than the one she had been working in for the past two and half weeks, longer and thinner, and along an entire wall there was a single pane of glass. The other side was shrouded in darkness, so she couldn't make out anyone. Even so she couldn't stop her eyes from flicking over to the mirror, it seemed as though her eyes were being drawn automatically to the people she knew were watching...

Mr. Raines stopped walking beside her once they reached the center of the room, and she stopped as was expected of her. He walked around to stand in front of her so that they were parallel to the mirror and she could almost feel the stares of what she assumed were the same people that she had been forced to face after her original escape. Somehow she got the feeling that this experience wasn't going to be any more pleasant than that one, and she wondered vaguely if she was destined to always screw up right when the Triumvirate was watching her, it was amazing her program hadn't just been pulled by now. All _They_ ever saw of her was mistakes and failures. Riley chewed her lip nervously and rubbed her moist palms on the grey cotton pants she wore as Mr. Raines was given the go ahead to begin the simulation. She suddenly felt like a gladiator, being thrown to the beasts in the Roman Coliseum, all for the entertainment of some doddering old fools who she would most likely never have the displeasure of meeting. In some ways it couldn't be closer to the truth.

"Ready..." Mr. Raines wheezed at her, it wasn't a question, it was a demand, and Riley had to remind herself to breathe for a moment as she realized that Mr. Raines had just signed her termination order.

_Why don't you just give me a toe tag and be done with it?_ She thought snarkily, and surprised even herself by having the capacity to think anything beyond 'nonononono NOT READY.' She gave no indication of hearing him except to close her eyes, trying to calm down enough to bring herself into 'SIM mode' as she had heard Mr. Lyle call it. She missed Mr. Lyle's coaching, his ability to calm her down was a gift that she took for granted far too often, one which she needed desperately right now. She heard his voice in her head, repeating the instructions that she had heard him say so often in the past. _'Calm down Riley, just breathe, everything's alright, breathe Riley, just take deep breaths... That's it... Now let go, just let go... Good...'_ She reopened her eyes, which were no longer focused on any one thing in the room, and gave an almost imperceptible nod, yes she was ready.

Mr. Raines signaled for the sweeper standing at the door and he flicked on a projection along the wall she was facing, it depicted a scene of Jarod in the SIM lab, but it was different from any she had seen previously... Riley suddenly realized that the picture was missing a key component of Jarod's life; Dr. Sydney. Jarod wasn't with Dr. Sydney. The projection flickered to another picture of Jarod, from a different perspective, and Riley felt herself slip into the now familiar personality.

"Where are you?"

Riley felt her train of thought derail for a moment, before her subconscious remembered that she was not working with Mr. Lyle. She took another deep breath, using Mr. Lyle's words to coach herself, to allow herself to recognize the situation and Jarod's feelings towards it.

_'What is he thinking? What is he feeling? Become the boy Riley. You are Jarod.'_

"I-I'm..."

"Where are you?" Mr. Raines was getting frustrated, she could tell. But if he kept derailing her thought process, there was nothing she could do about it! Riley shook her head at the thought, trying to get herself back on track.

"I'm in the simulation lab... Sydney isn't here."

"What are you doing?"

Riley tried to ignore his prodding; she needed to stay inside the SIM... She had to, if she didn't- _Just don't think about that now... think Riley. You are Jarod. You are in the SIM lab... Sydney isn't with you... You are... You are... looking at the vent... Why are you looking at the vent?-- _Riley was once again shaken from her train of thought as Mr. Raines rasped under his wheezy breath "Concentrate Riley. Run the SIM, or face the consequences."

_There's air coming from the vent... its cold, colder than normal..._

"Riley..." Raines had raised his voice this time; it seemed that he wanted to look like he was doing something about trying to get his project to run the simulation in front of the Triumvirate members.

Riley finally took some notice of the agitation in Mr. Raines voice, realizing that he wasn't going to allow her any more time to think this through, she had to say something or he was going to force her to. "I'm making paper snowflakes... it's winter outside, Sydney always leaves during the winter... I'm looking at the vent next to me... I want to see real snow... The vent leads to the outside, I can feel cold air coming through... if I go through the vent- maybe I can get outside... maybe I can avoid the alarms long enough to go outside for a while..."

Riley ran the rest of the simulation with a fair amount of ease, although Mr. Raines was not helping very much. He was disrupting her every time she reached a piece of information she actually needed to think about, always pointing her down the wrong path. The simulation finished and the projector was snapped off. Mr. Raines walked into the other room to confer with the board members, leaving Riley to concentrate on stopping herself from hurling; the next simulation would deal with multiple perspectives... she had been able to deal with just Jarod's, but she didn't know what would come from this next one...

-

-

Jarod watched the young girl from the vents above them. He'd gone to her room first, but only arrived right after Raines had walked in to take her elsewhere. Jarod had followed along above them as the man escorted her here, to a SIM Lab, to be watched by the Triumvirate. She was scared, he could tell, her pale face was flushed and her eyes held almost constant worry. She was carrying herself wrong too; stiffly, as though she were in pain. She turned her back to him and Jarod could make out a small drop of blood staining the top of her shirt, near the collar. He swallowed, stifling the urge to hit something. She was so small-- fragile. And she seemed so desperate to please. Jarod doubted Raines even realized what a gem he had in this girl... Jarod's daughter. She was beautiful, but not in the conventional way of Hollywood, or the beautiful Jarod had been indoctrinated on when working as a plastic surgeon. She looked a lot like him, he could tell even from here, but he could also see little differences-- her lips and nose, her ears, the set of her shoulders. He was probably just a little bit biased. Jarod stiffened as the door below him reopened, and he tried to mentally prepare himself for tortures he knew were coming. He couldn't lose his temper-- couldn't protect her; couldn't enter the room. Not if he had any chance of getting her out of the Centre. He felt so _helpless. _This place always made him feel helpless.

-

-

Raines entered the room concealing the board members, not entirely sure of the response that would meet him; the Triumvirate had been called here with the information that Riley was one of the most promising pretenders they had seen since Jarod's time... And while the performance she had just given them was interesting, it also was a stunted version of the simulation... Raines hated to admit it, but Riley's performance would have increased immensely had she been running the simulation with Lyle. He knew it; and Lyle knew it, what was more. The next simulation might not go through at all. Raines had given the girl plenty of motivation when it came to this simulation, but that didn't matter when she was being too _obstinate_ to try. This afternoon's session had not been promising. He glanced through the window into the next room; Riley was sitting down against the wall opposite, her knees to her chest and her head resting in her arms. The girl was exhausted, caused in large part by the beating she had received that afternoon, and even more so by the SIM that she had just done. She was tiring too soon. Raines made a mental note to add that problem to her training program and began listening to the praise his project was receiving from the board members... good, they were pleased, and if he could motivate her to do this next simulation properly he was probably looking at a large salary increase.

-

-

Lyle sped through the Centre parking lot, pulling his beloved car to a screeching halt and running inside the massive, labyrinth-like, building. He ran down the hallways, skidding in his slick work shoes, and rushing towards the secured elevator that was able to access the lower sub-levels, where Riley's room was. He'd tried calling Raines the instant he had found a phone, but the man wasn't in his office, and Lyle couldn't bring this news to the attention of anyone else; it was a classified topic. He reached her space but found it empty, and immediately thought the worst-- Jarod had taken off with _his _pretender. But the Centre would be in an uproar if that happened... she wasn't gone yet, he could feel it. He began running off in the direction of their usual SIM lab, when he was hailed by the sweeper at the guard station.

"Mr. Lyle!"

Lyle turned around, clearly showing his agitation at being held up from his search. "What!"

"N-Nothing Sir." The unfortunate sweeper stepped back a few paces, knocking into the table behind him and successfully backing himself into a corner.

"If it was _nothing_, then why did you _stop_ me?" Lyle's voice was cool as ice, and the unlucky sweeper immediately recognized the danger signs of a full out psychotic episode.

"I-I just t-thought you ought to know that your girl was taken to do a p-pretend in front of the board m-members!" The man squeaked out, looking as though on the verge of a heart attack. Lyle approached him slowly, menacingly.

"Where was she taken?" He asked frigidly.

The sweeper tried speaking, coming out with barely more than a squeak. "S-SIM l-lab n-nine."

Lyle took off again at a run, changing his direction when he reached the corner, rather then going up the usual elevator ride. Lab nine was on this floor, he could get there in five minutes. Just five minutes and he could fix this mess.

-

-

"I-I" Riley searched for the right words to convey the emotions the simulation was causing her to feel.

"Complete the simulation!" Mr. Raines ordered her through gritted teeth, they had reached the point in the simulation where she was to switch perspectives from Jarod to the man in the simulation; a John Doe who had turned up dead on the side of the road.

Riley struggled through trying to juggle the various personalities fighting for dominance inside of her... she couldn't change her perspective though. She had been able to keep herself inside the simulation, but she couldn't concentrate on the actual events going on, she was having to focus too hard on maintaining her perspective, and not getting startled out of her skin every time Mr. Raines spoke to her... somehow she had to force herself to think of him as part of the simulation... just another piece of scenery...

"Riley, don't make me force you. Now finish the simulation."

_Finish the simulation! I'd like nothing better than to finish the simulation! _Riley's conscious snapped back to the present, to the here and now, and she gave up trying to maintain the perspectives she was having trouble sifting through. She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts, and looked up at Mr. Raines, who seemed to have realized that she had come back to reality. "I am trying Sir. I'm _sorry_, I-"

Raines backhanded her, snapping her head around to the side as she took the full force of the blow without a single cry of protest. "Complete the simulation Riley or I will hand you over to the sweepers and this time I won't stop them until you pass out." Raines ground out under his breath, ensuring that the board members behind him wouldn't be able to hear the threat. Raines and Riley were both startled from this line of conversation as they heard a loud clanging noise, it seemed to Riley that it was coming from the vent directly above them, but Mr. Raines signaled to a sweeper at the door. The man nodded his head once before turning and exiting the room- most likely to discover the source of the sound. Riley wiped away the blood that trickled down her chin from where her tooth hit her lip, and tried to think of a convincing argument she could give Mr. Raines... He signaled to the sweeper behind him and Riley saw the smile Gar was trying, and failing, to hide.

Gar advanced upon her, holding a wide strap of leather wound around his fist. Riley backed up slightly, fear twisting in her stomach as she inadvertently empathed Gar. She nearly passed out from the man's ruthless, and rather evil intentions; he wanted to hurt her, wanted to cause her immense pain. And he knew that Mr. Raines wouldn't stop him.

Riley was never fully able to categorize the events that came next... it all seemed to happen in a blur to her foggy mind.

-

-

Jarod sat in the ventilation systems watching the exchange, his vision was limited and auditory was next to nothing, but he got the gist of the conversation. He had been on the receiving end of Raines' 'do or die' threats himself. Jarod highly doubted the old man's routine had changed much over the years. He did, however, jerk away from the vent grating when he saw Raines hit the young girl. His head impacted with the vent roof above him, and while the sudden force didn't knock him unconscious, it did manage to make quite a bit of noise. Jarod flinched visibly as the loud clang reverberated around the room. He didn't wait to see if they would come looking for him, but took a final regret filled look at the girl before turned in the shaft and racing back to escape route he knew out of the massive building. He couldn't save her tonight, but he _would _be back.

-

-

Lyle ran into the board room, startling the members and watching as Gar advanced upon his project holding a torture implement that Lyle himself hadn't even been tempted to use to modify Riley's behavior since she was around four or five. He ignored the startled exclamation of Mr. Parker and ran into the adjoining SIM lab, wrenching the whip-like device from Gar's grasp and throwing him to the ground.

"Come near my project again with any more than a pair of handcuffs and you will hear from me Gar, now get out of my sight before I change my decision to let you live." He hissed softly, watching the frightened sweeper scramble out of the room frantically. Lyle then turned back to the rest of the room at large. Raines was looking murderous, and the board members had all left there seats, coming into the SIM lab to inquire as to what exactly was going on. He took a deep breath, calming the homicidal rage that had been coursing through him, before addressing Raines.

"Were you having _problems _in here?" He asked the man, echoing his words back at him from the day that they had briefed Riley on this matter. Raines didn't even answer, he just walked into the room opposite, taking a vacant seat as the board members returned to the viewing room, eager as to what this new change in events could bring. Lyle waited until all of the members of the board had left before he knelt down to speak to Riley one on one, she was looking at him with a mixture of relief and mingled anticipation in her eyes, and he knew that she was still trying to process what all had just happened. Lyle leaned in and spoke in a low whisper, taking her wrist and discreetly checking her pulse as he talked to her, trying to see if he could get her calmed down enough to the point that she could SIM. "Are you alright?" He asked her, and received a small nod in return. Raines must have really scared her; she looked as though she were going into some form of shock... like her brain had shut down temporarily so that it wouldn't have to deal with anything. "Riley?" Lyle looked at her anxiously, waiting for her to give him some form of a response. "Riley, it's alright; I'm back... you won't be working with Mr. Raines for a while, don't worry..." Lyle was saying anything that popped into his head that he thought might reassure her.

"I thought you were g-going to be gone longer than this..." She finally answered him, looking at him confusedly, but her gratitude was obvious even then.

"What and _leave_ you here? You know I couldn't stand missing an opportunity to put Gar in his place..." Lyle winked at her, and received a small smile for his efforts, he felt her pulse returning to normal, and released his hold on her wrist. "So, you think you can run a SIM for me?" Lyle asked her this last question in a normal voice, allowing the board members into their conversation now that it related to their work. Lyle watched as Riley's eye's flicked over to the mirror before settling with a determined look on him. She nodded, and whispered a sentence that made it feel as though the world had been lifted from his shoulders-

"I think I understand how to complete it now."

"I'm glad to hear that," He whispered back. "I knew you could do it, if you really wanted to." He praised. "Do you need help getting into the simulation?"

Riley shook her head mutely, if she was going to make up for the mistakes she made in front of the triumvirate earlier she would need to pull out all of the stops. She had to make this a show to remember, some part of her brain was still reasoning that she still wasn't safe from Mr. Raines' wrath. Not by a long shot. The projector flicked on once again and Riley allowed her sense of self slip away to a storage container in the back of her mind, putting it away until she next needed it.

"Where are you?"

"I'm..." Riley closed her eyes and went completely into the SIM... it was like she was looking through someone else's eyes, she could see a simulation lab materialize around her... and could see a man walking around on the outskirts of a ring of light, the light was illuminating her, but nothing else, and in front of her were projections... pictures of a man... a mangled corpse who looked as though he had been stabbed to death... There were projectors running all around her... giving her the impression that she was in the middle of a forest clearing...

Lyle waited patiently as his project got the scope of her surroundings. He knew that she would come back in a few seconds and know exactly where she was and what she was doing... it always worked like that for her.

"I'm in the simulation lab. I'm with Sydney. I'm looking at the pictures he's given me... A man was stabbed to death just outside of his town in Washington."

"Good Riley. Now what are you feeling?"

"I'm... confused." Riley fully took on Jarod's personality as she began sifting through his feelings, "I don't understand... how could anyone kill another person... how could they just kill someone, someone they don't even know; someone who just happened to have the ill fortune of running into them... it doesn't make sense." She said slowly.

"Why doesn't it make sense?" Lyle watched as Riley struggled to explain Jarod's feelings towards the SIM.

"If life is so... precious... how could someone just- just take it? Like it was nothing; no big deal. I don't understand."

Lyle took his cue from the projectors in front of them, pushing Riley in the direction of the actual simulation. "People... Some people don't have any trouble killing others. They don't always see something wrong with it. This is why we need you to do this pretend; we need to stop people like them."

"I- I'll do it." Riley answered him with a slight hesitation; Jarod had been a little bit older in this pretend... and something was nagging at the back of his mind as he agreed to the SIM. Something was telling him that this pretend might not be used for the sole purpose of saving people. Riley pushed it to the back of her mind. She had work to do. She watched as the projections on the screen changed; turning from pictures of Jarod, to pictures of the man in the simulation. The pictures showed him walking down a long road. The road lead to a clearing, it was hidden from the road, and illuminated only by moonlight. The perfect place for a murder.

"Become the man. What is he thinking? What is he feeling? You are the man." Lyle stated the mantra, coaching Riley from one personality to another, and was a little bit surprised when she actually transferred to the personality correctly. This was good. This was very good. "Where are you? What are you doing?"

"I'm on a road. Walking. My car broke down, and my house is only about a mile away, it's right on the outskirts of town. It's getting late, almost dark. I speed up, knowing that I probably won't make it to my house before the sun goes down completely. There aren't any people on the road, and it's getting colder. It looks like rain... I keep walking."

"Where do you go? Do you stay on the road?" Lyle prompted Riley, pushing her in the direction of the next choice the man made.

"No. I can see a path in the trees, I know it. This path leads right to the edge of town. It's used by the kids who walk home from the high school. I know it because it leads almost directly to my property. It's a shortcut. I look up at the sky and the rolling thunderclouds make up my mind for me. I go into the forest."

"What then? What happens?"

"This may not have been the best choice... I can hardly see my hand in front of my face, and the trail is nonexistent. I don't have a flashlight. I spin around, deciding that I should probably head back to the road, I'll probably get rained on, but at least it has streetlamps. I start walking back, or at least I start walking in the direction I think is back... I don't know where I am. I think I'm lost. I can make out a light in the distance, it might be the road. I start walking towards it, as I come into a clearing I begin to hear voices. I see a group of men, they're standing in front of their car, and the headlights are on. I don't interrupt them right away; I think that I should just disappear."

"What do you do?"

"I feel as though my feet have rooted themselves to the ground, I can't move; one of the men has been attacked by two others. They have him pinned down, he's screaming. The man he's pleading with shoots him. I take a step back, trying to leave without anyone noticing me. I cringe as I hear a stick snap beneath my foot, the men look up, and one of them points a flashlight at me, I don't know what to do! I stumble away, and begin running. I can hear them chasing me, the man with the gun is barking orders, and I run faster as I hear him tell the other men to 'dispose' of me. I can't think! All I can see is the man being shot, over and over again. I hear a bullet ricochet off of a tree I just passed, and I run faster."

"Where do you go?"

"I keep running straight ahead, I stumble out onto the road and feel raindrops begin to fall, the shower quickly gets heavier and it begins to pour, raindrops splatter on the ground around me and I look in both directions, trying to decide which way to go. I can hear one of the hunters crashing around near me and I rocket off down in the direction of my car; it's closer than my house, if I can get in and lock the doors, they might not be able to get to me..."

"What happens?"

"A man tumbles out of the underbrush and onto the slick road behind me, he fires his gun and I can feel the bullet lodge in my leg, I stumble, and fall to the ground. I'm bleeding a lot! The pain is... blinding. I try to scramble backwards as the man advances upon me... he's holding a knife, it's huge! I can't move, I can't think, I don't know what to do... Somebody help me! Somebody help! I can't do anything... Help!"

Riley began shaking uncontrollably, and Lyle knew the simulation had ended, the man had died, and Riley's subconscious didn't know how to handle it, Lyle had to get her out of the simulation before she collapsed. If she passed out during a SIM, the effects on her mental capacity could be disastrous, her brain could revert to the personality in the simulation, and seeing as he was dead, well that really wouldn't be a good thing.

"Disengage Riley." The shaking lessened slightly, but didn't dissipate entirely and Lyle watched his pretender struggle for dominance over her own mind, "Riley stop the SIM." Lyle reached out and shook the pretender lightly, hoping that her inherent fear of being touched might help him snap her out of it. Riley came to, stumbling backwards and clenching her hands into fists as she tried to control the tremors racking her body, her breath came in shuddering gasps and Lyle allowed her the loss of control over her emotions; after all, for all technical purposes she had just died. He checked her pulse once more as he tried to help her calm down.

"It's okay Riley... you're safe. You're with me, it's alright I promise, you did that simulation very well. I'm proud of you. That was a very good job. Now take some deep breaths, that's it, good. Its okay, you're okay. Very good Riley." Lyle spoke in a hushed voice, and watched as the pretender stopped shaking entirely, slipping into a slightly dazed state, brought on by the adrenalin pumping through her veins. He patted her on the shoulder, keeping eye contact, and getting her used to his touch. "It's alright, I promise."

Riley's breathing slowly returned to normal and her eyes slipped back into focus, her attention went back to him and she regained the lost control over her emotions.

"Riley," Lyle addressed her in a regular tone again, asking her some follow-up questions about the simulation that would show the Triumvirate just how good Riley really was, "What was Jarod thinking during the simulation?"

"He..." Riley hesitated as she thought about it; his emotions and thoughts were always so complex compared to what she was used to analyzing, "He thought... he thought that the simulation might be used for purposes other than the one's that Dr. Sydney had told him."

"What did he think it might be used for Riley?"

"He thought that the simulation could be manipulated to be used as a way to murder someone rather than help them."

"What were his feelings on that?"

"He was... angry... and confused; he didn't think that Dr. Sydney would lie to him, but Jarod also thought that the SIM was built for purposes other than what they were telling him. The theory is logical; the simulation didn't have any actual purpose for trying to help a person. However it did have the possibility of telling the pursuers of a person how they would try to escape..."

"Good Riley. I have to go talk with the board members, stay out here and wait for me." Lyle directed her towards a table at the back of the room, and gave her a pen and some paper before disappearing into the room opposite. Mr. Parker and Mr. Raines seemed to be glad-handing the board members, accepting the praise for the work that he and Riley had just performed. Typical. Parker pointed over Adama's shoulder, and the man swung around to greet Lyle.

"That was quite the show." The man spoke quietly, but his deep voice commanded the attention of all those in the room. Lyle accepted the praise humbly, as he knew it would go further with the man than anything else.He didn't say a word, but nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"It would seem that your project has undeniable potential, has she fully reached that potential yet?" This question was directed at both Raines and him, and Lyle waited for the older man to speak before chiming in himself, Raines was Riley's director, as much as he loathed it, and Lyle wasn't about to contradict him in front of Adama, that was a sure way to get himself killed.

"The project... Has not reached fruition yet... If the program continues according to plan... her skill level should progress at a regular rate as she matures..." Raines wheezed out, looking in Lyle's opinion altogether too pleased with himself for a man who had hardly done anything to do with her program.

Adama looked over at Lyle, "Would you agree with that assessment?"

"While I agree with the assessment of her potential, that's only half of the actual project. Her obedience and tolerance levels both exceed those of Jarod's. And her ability as an empath is growing as we speak. Her ability to judge some of the more passionate emotions needs some work, but her training program allows for that. The simulation that you just witnessed is only her third try at becoming more than one person at the same time, a feat which, by the way, has never even been tried with Jarod. Her simulations are performed at an ability which nearly exceeds Jarod's own, and she hasn't even been fully trained yet." Lyle looked out of the screening room window, watching his project with an almost parental fondness, not that he would ever act on that impulse, or tell anyone about it. Not if he intended to live. "Her skills are developing at an alarming rate and she has shown absolutely no sign of even contemplating running away."

Lyle turned back to Adama and the other board members, watching their reactions cautiously, Mr. Parker had a smile that spoke of malicious intent growing across his features and Raines was looking very self- satisfied, reminiscent of the cat-who-ate-the-canary.

"I see." Adama noted. "You said that her simulations were performed at an ability that _nearly_ exceeds Jarod's?" Adama's expression grew serious; he had been lured out to Blue Cove with the information that the project was the best the Centre had seen.

"What Mr. Lyle meant to say was-" Raines jumped into the conversation, trying to cover up Lyle's seeming blunder, but Lyle cut him off.

"What I meant to say was that while Riley does exceed Jarod in several areas, she has severe confidence problems- she can be unsure of her answers- despite the fact that they are right. She isn't as open or trusting as Jarod was at her age, and these facts show in her work."

"So you are saying that I was brought out here to watch a lesser pretender."

"No. She simply has strengths in areas different than Jarod. In several other ways she exceeds him. She has more military background, she is easier to control, she doesn't care about the effects of her simulations like Jarod did, and as I said before; she shows no signs of ever planning to leave the Centre." Lyle almost took it as a personal affront that Adama had called Riley 'lesser', he hadn't spent eleven years working on a 'lesser' pretender. "She isn't fully trained yet, but her program allows for growth. Riley's potential is a veritable gold mine for the Triumvirate, given time her abilities could triple from what you witnessed tonight."

The black man's smile broadened, showing white teeth which reminded Lyle vaguely of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. "Good."

Lyle walked out of the viewing room and strolled over to the table where it seemed that Riley had fallen asleep waiting for him, he couldn't blame her either; the meeting had lasted well over an hour, they had been discussing Raines and his new salary raises. Lyle was almost certain that she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep while he was gone; Raines had a way of frightening the pretender that Lyle could never fully justify. Giving one person that much reason to fear you only lead to an uncomfortable relationship, one of the things that the people who worked with the projects typically tried to avoid; if the project wasn't comfortable around you, it wouldn't be able to work with you. Lyle looked at the drawings covering the table. They were pretty good, given the rather graphic nature of some of them, depicting scenes from the pretend she had just undergone. Giving her the pen and paper had been meant for that purpose after all; drawing was the way that Riley could release the emotions she had towards the simulation, and Lyle used it as a way of controlling the frequency of the girl's nightmares. It was one of the few forms of self expression which she was allowed to have, and Lyle never stopped her from taking advantage of it. He knelt down next to the table and gently shook the teen awake, generally he couldn't touch her like this without her becoming terrified, but sometimes, after emotionally exhausting days like these, she would react like any other young girl would; accepting the touch as a source of comfort.

"Riley, hey kiddo, wake up." Lyle whispered into her ear, trying to wake her up as gently as possible. "Riley, we've got to get you back to you're room, and I'm not going to carry you." Lyle teased the groggy young girl as she slowly came to.

"Huh? Wha-" Riley looked around her confusedly, rubbing at the sleep in her eyes.

"Hey there."

"Mr. Lyle!" Riley looked up at him in surprise, fully awake once more, "Oh, I-I..." Riley struggled for words and Lyle laughed lightly at the speechless pretender.

"You ready to go back to your room?" He asked her fondly, giving her an escape route out of the tired state of confusion she was experiencing.

She nodded mutely, getting up from her seat and heading sleepily to the door. Lyle grabbed the drawings and followed her, punching in the door code and walking in the general direction of her room.

"How'd it go?" Riley interrogated him, forgetting to ask permission to ask him questions because of her half-conscious state. Lyle didn't really mind though, after all, she had just managed to get him an extra ten thousand dollars _a week_.

"Pretty well." He understated. "The board members are pleased with your work. You did very well, and I'm proud that you took the initiative to figure out how to complete that SIM, I know how much trouble it was giving you." Lyle praised the young girl at his side, making sure to tell her how proud he really was. He had hardly ever received any form of praise from his own father when he was her age, or any other time, and he knew how terrible it felt to want the approval of someone so bad, and be unable to attain it no matter how hard you tried. He also knew that Riley had similar feelings towards him; he had to admit their relationship was confusing, even by Centre standards. Lyle was in a way her father, he had provided the cells to help create her, and had raised her since she was four, and some part of Riley had inherently trusted him. She had never been able to open up to anyone that easily outside of himself, even Sarah had had a difficult time getting her to talk at first. Riley didn't exactly see him as a father, but Lyle recognized a feeling of loyalty, one that she only seemed to give him. In other ways their relationship was very difficult, Lyle had to punish her for misdeeds through physical abuse, and that could strain anyone's relationship. In most cases, she didn't give him a reason to have to hurt her though. So granted there were rules that both of them had to follow, but otherwise Lyle and Riley's relationship was just as codependent as Sydney and Jarod's; Riley needed him as a support figure, and right now that was good for both of them.

They reached the door of her room and Lyle walked inside, watching her crawl into bed stiffly. "Would you like some pain medication for that?" He asked. Normally, she wasn't allowed anything of the sort, but this was a reward for good behavior-- and she would understand it as such. Really, he wanted a reason to stay in her room a while longer, until he could arrange for some tighter security around the girl-- with Jarod running around, he wanted no lag anywhere.

She stopped in her movements and hesitated before sitting back up, leaning back on her hands and looking at him tentatively. "I wasn't acting properly around Mr. Raines... I made him angry." She said haltingly. "I deserve this."

The answer was in accordance with what their training had taught her, but the answer still surprised Lyle just a little bit. He gave her a small smile. "You have also made _me _very proud tonight; I think you deserve some relief more."

She swallowed tightly, "Really?"

"If I didn't think that, then I wouldn't have offered. Would you like some medicine or not?" He asked again, giving her a second chance to say yes.

She nodded quickly, chewing her lip, trying to hide the warm glow spreading through her body at the praise. He called out the door to get the sweeper, then drew him aside, out the door, when the man arrived. Riley didn't know what was so secret about pain meds, but apparently it wasn't something for her to overhear, and for once, she didn't try. She drew her knees up to her chest, putting her head on her arms. It had been a very long day. She shifted on the bed and something small and hard slid into her leg. She looked down in confusion, feeling around beneath the coverlet until her fingers wrapped around the little offender. She pulled it out, and she was holding her necklace again. She inhaled sharply, having thought she would never get it back, and started tying it up around her neck, but then stopped. She couldn't wear it anymore. Mr. Lyle had forbidden it-- if he caught her with it he'd probably confiscate it. She hesitated, then bent over the frame of the bed and tied it tightly to one of the springs; it would be safe there. Mr. Lyle returned to the room and Riley immediately felt a wretched sense of guilt consume her, she shouldn't be hiding things from him... but she shouldn't have to either, she justified. He shouldn't have pushed her to it.

When the sweeper came back a short time later, a small paper cup and two pills in his hand, Mr. Raines was walking at his side. Riley felt her breath hitch at the sight-- she must have humiliated him; working so horribly on the SIM, and then practically swimming through it with Mr. Lyle-- and in front of the board members! He probably hated her! And here she was, weaseling her way out of the punishment _he _had decided she needed, and Mr. Lyle had been encouraging her to do it! Oh she wished she had never agreed. What if it had been some sort of a test? Mr. Lyle noticed the horrorstruck look she was sending to her blanket. He leaned over to her before heading out the door to go talk with the man, handing her the two small tablets as he did.

"You have done nothing wrong, Riley." He murmured, before heading out the door, making her feel just a little bit better. Enough to swallow the pills before someone took them away from her.

-

-

Lyle stepped out of the room, maneuvering Raines just a little ways down the hall, so that he could still keep a vigilant eye on Riley's cell door. "We have problems." He said bluntly. "Jarod knows about her. He somehow knows _everything _about her, _and_ where she comes from."

"How did you find this out?" Raines rasped, turning to keep an eye on the door to the young girl's space as well.

"The lead to Oregon was a fluke. It was a distraction, so that he could come here and whisk her away." He explained, crossing his arms over his chest. "We need heightened security around her at all times; until we have Jarod back in custody."

"Which shouldn't be for much longer." The old man wheezed with a hint of satisfaction.

Lyle agreed wholeheartedly. "With the way things turned tonight; no, it shouldn't be long at all."


	14. Chapter 14

_Jenkinson's Law: It won't work.

* * *

_

"The board is very pleased with your project's performance Dr. Raines." The African woman's voice poured from her mouth like silk, speaking with profound femininity that most would perceive as impossible coming from a Triumvirate representative. Raines stood before the Triumvirate board members in one of the Centre's many conference rooms, anticipation growing slowly within him as he faced the line of assembled people. He could tell; he had these people in his pocket now. It was always that way when Raines had a working project, they exiled him whenever a pretender wasn't linked with his name, but when there was, Raines could get almost anything. He only needed to manipulate the situation correctly. "However," the woman paused, and Raines bristled. _However, they would require something more from him? However, she is no comparison to Jarod? However, we would like to place _Lyle _in control? _"It would seem that it will take time to reach fruition. That is time that I'm afraid the Triumvirate cannot afford."

Raines moved forward a step or two, outrage growing on his face. "You can't--" _terminate this project. _He had meant to say, but she held up an infernal hand to silence him. "The Triumvirate, can do whatever it pleases, and you would do well to remember it, Raines. This body _cannot _afford the time--while your project is allotted time to grow, time to hone her skills to find our missing pretender, Jarod is still out there--"

Another member of the board spoke up at that moment, his voice giving away his frustration, tinged lightly with fury. "The man is an embarrassment!"

"Embarrassment! He's a damn liability; he steals our money, leaks our information, and has the knowledge and the power to expose the entire organization." Another of the men sitting around the table interrupted. The woman in the middle cleared her throat quietly to return attention back to herself.

"You see our troubles Mr. Raines. The Triumvirate can't afford to waste any more time with the search for Jarod. We need results _now_." She paused, and this time, Raines had no grand dreams of overhauling the Centre, merely angry anticipation. He wouldn't allow them to scrap the project as they had so many others. He would keep it going even without their approval, and without their knowledge if needs be. The cells in SL-27 could be refurbished, and he had had plenty of practice keeping Kyle down there. If that wouldn't work, then he had plenty of little safe houses dotting the map around Blue Cove, and any of them would suffice. "This is where your project comes in Dr. Raines. We need her training accelerated. We need her working at full production level."

Raines relaxed only a fraction. They didn't want to take it away; but what they were asking would be difficult. "The project is already being pushed along faster... than many of our others by Mr. Lyle and myself." he gambled, only to be interrupted yet again by the man on the far end of the assembly.

"Well Raines, with all due respect," he stated,with an air that whatever respect Raines was entitled to be shown was beneath him, "The Triumvirate begs to differ."

"Mr. Raines, the Triumvirate was vexed at the interaction we watched of the girl with Mr. Lyle the other day. It seems, that there is a mutual attachment there: Not Acceptable." The woman frowned. "Perhaps you could explain to us how it is that the girl seemed incapable of performing the simulation while working with you, only to turn about completely and finish her assignment flawlessly while working with Mr. Lyle?"

Raines returned her stare silently, trying to find an answer most advantageous to himself; he certainly couldn't tell the truth.

"Mr. Raines?" The woman prompted. "Do you think that this girl could have, in any way, been trying to sabotage the simulation, so that it played in Mr. Lyle's favor?" She asked cooly, and Raines saw his opening. It wouldn't do to have Riley fall blame for this; not if he wanted to keep her as valuable to the Triumvirate as she was when he had entered the room.

"The girl isn't capable of such scheming... She is trained to show complete loyalty to _both of us. _However... I have noticed the attachment you mentioned... between Mr. Lyle and the girl as well." He paused, breathing heavily. "If _he _asked it of her,the project might comply out of a misdirected desire to please him."

"You feel it was Mr. Lyle, who might have sabotaged the simulation?"

"It _was _him." Raines answered unreservedly. "He has been trying to pull this project away from me for some time now; _poisoning _her mind."

The woman nodded. "Unfortunately for him, that mind is a topic of great interest for the Triumvirate. We would like the project to be transferred to Our headquarters in Africa where she will continueto work on locatingJarod." She paused, before bestowing the final gift. "With _you_ as her sole mentor. You will be given free reign over the project-- do whatever you must tohave herperform quicker. As long as you don't feel that it will jeopardize her mind; you won't find intereference from Us."

"And what about Mr. Lyle?" He asked in a gritty rasp, thinking it was his chance to show the impertinant man who truly had the upper hand among them.

"Mr. Lyle is being informed that he is to be transferred to another branch of the Triumvirate as we speak. We feel that he was becoming too emotionally involved with the subject."

Raines' mouth widened into a greasy smile as he and the board members quit the room, still discussing, unknowingly being followed by a pair of haunted blue eyes watching from the ventilation shafts.


	15. Chapter 15

_Pudder's first law: Anything that begins well ends badly.

* * *

_

"Pay attention Riley... remember... Frontsight. Trigger-pull. Follow Through."

"Y-Yes sir." Riley gripped the gun held in her hand more firmly, widening her stance slightly in order to make her center of gravity closer to the ground. She sighted along the shaft of the gun, her arms held straight out in front of her, one holding the weapon while the other helped to support her aim. She fired the gun at the target, unleashing a couple of rounds that ripped through the thick cardboard like tissue paper. Despite her widened stance, her small frame allowed the backlash from the gun to wrench her shoulder slightly each time; it was throbbing by the time she had emptied the barrel and her aim had strayed during the last shots. Lowering her gun, Riley resisted the urge to massage her shoulder, and turned around to look at Mr. Raines as the target was returned by the machine holding it up. His expression was closed, and she couldn't read any feelings coming off of him, but she knew that he was disappointed with her shots. The shots were excellent when compared to any good marksman, all of them, excepting the final two, had pierced near the same hole in the practice target. But the two bullets that she had allowed to stray were about an inch from where they should be.

"You're still allowing the recoil from the gun to shift your position..." Mr. Raines wheezed while examining the target. "You aren't compensating for the backlash with your stance..." He admonished, looking at her sternly. They had gone over this before, she knew, but it was a lot easier said than done. Riley was small, she had the muscle to keep the gun steady, but she didn't have the weight to back her up. Even with these minor disadvantages though, she shouldn't be making such amateur mistakes. Riley had been training in weapons use twice a month with Mr. Raines ever since she was seven- she should definitely have grown out of that mistake.

"I'm s-sorry Sir." Riley answered dejectedly. Trying to control the stammer in her voice that plagued her whenever she was near Mr. Raines; he considered it a sign of weakness, of emotion, and would only tolerate it for a short period of time. These lessons were the only time that she was ever truly alone with Mr. Raines. There were never any sweepers in the room, or anyone watching from the catwalks, it was odd. Except for these times Riley could never remember having a moment when she wasn't being watched over by some odd five people. Riley enjoyed the lessons in combat and weapons training, they were stimulating in a way that couldn't be achieved by mental projects. Riley's fear of Mr. Raines however, often made these particular days extremely trying. She walked closer to the table Mr. Raines was standing near, looking over the weapons that covered it. If it could inflict damage, Mr. Raines had taught her to use it.

She reached out and picked up one of the many knives lying before her, holding it up to inspect it closer. It was new, she didn't recognize it from any of the other times, it had a sleek black handle with a loop up near the blade,and she twirled it expertly around her finger, stopping it when the handle came around again. The blade flicked down into the handle for storage, and the weight felt perfectly balanced in her hand. The blade was of a medium size, and it fit well with Riley's petite frame.

_The frame that won't support a stupid gun._

Mr. Raines interrupted her inspection with a well placed "We aren't finished working with the guns yet, Riley." And she reluctantly put the knife back down on the table. She had always enjoyed working with the hand to hand weapons better than the guns, and Mr. Raines knew it. She was better with them-- had more control, and could be a bit more creative. She needed creativity if she were going to attack someone over twice her size. She stumbled backwards as Mr. Raines shoved a rifle into her hands, struggling to hold it up and keep it steady. "Do better this time." He growled at her before backhanding her across the face. Riley flinched at the blow, thinking this was punishment for her poor shots earlier. She nodded her understanding with her gaze trained on the ground, unable to force herself to look up at his angered gaze. She hated disappointing people; it always left her with a sick feeling inside that she would never manage to shake until she had redeemed herself. When she was working with Mr. Raines, exhibiting any such redeeming qualities was a very hard thing to do.

She winced slightly as she held the gun up to her still-aching shoulder, and sighted along the rifle's shaft to aim it at a new target. The gun was terribly heavy, and difficult to keep steady; she could already feel the muscles in her arm tremoring slightly under the weight. She doubted her shots would be any better with this gun, but she lined the crosshairs up obediently, checking herself before she pulled the trigger, turning back to her mentor.

"M-Mr. Raines, may I please a-ask you a question?"

Looking over her shoulder she saw Mr. Raines nod his permission.

"Why did you have the targets d-designed to look like that?" she asked, glad that the stutter had only mutilated one of the words in her sentence.

"Because Riley, he is a very bad man. If you were ever to meet him he would tell you lies about the Centre, he'd try to convince you to change your loyalties. You can't believe anything that he says Riley, understand?"

Riley nodded eagerly. "Y-Yes Sir." She said as she turned back around and reset her sights on the target's countenance. A countenance she knew inside and out. She leveled her aim and adjusted her stance slightly. And, tightening her finger around the trigger,

BANG!

A hole appeared in Jarod's cardboard-forehead.

-

-

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Riley fired the gun several times but the bullets wouldn't seem to hit. Everything was grey, the walls, the clothing, the people the **air**. She felt like she was suffocating, she couldn't draw breath._

_'Do better this time Riley.' Mr. Raines rasping voice resounded around the room and she fired the gun again, the bullet hit this time and the cardboard figure of Jarod slowly melted into her own visage. The bullet ripped through a cardboard heart and blood gushed from the wound. The pain became her own and she nearly cried out in agony, but found that her lips had been sewn shut. As quickly as the wound was inflicted it repaired itself, the bleeding stopped and new skin began to grow, within seconds the wound had disappeared, but it left a large, reddish scar. The gun wouldn't stop firing! Bullet after bullet impaled her mirror image and each time the healing process was repeated, but as time wore on the scars became worse, uglier. Riley became aware of a sore throbbing in her shoulder, and looked down to see thata large purple bruise had formed as the gun pounded into her with unforgiving blows. The bruise was growing larger, it now spanned her entire right shoulder. The gun was only hitting her in the one place but the bruise was still growing rapidly. It felt as though it were eating her alive. The pain overcame her and Riley felt as though she were exploding, ripping, shattering, fragmented into a thousand pieces. And then it was over. Riley was no longer inside the grey room, and she could breathe again. The color of a world surrounded her. But her scars remained. Riley slowly recognized the area she was sitting in and the memory was reinforced as a small figure darted across her vision. A small girl with dark brown hair and darker eyes smiling at her happily before turning and sticking her tongue out. She laughed and ran off as another figure darted into her vision. **Sarah**. _

_Riley recognized her old friend as if they never parted. But they had, they had parted long ago, Riley knew. At some point in time Sarah had been transferred to another project and she had left without even saying goodbye. The pain of the memory still fresh in her mind, Riley stared down at her skin as slowly another scar marred her flesh. Riley looked up as more phantoms appeared in the room. They were nameless, faceless haunts, but she felt a spark of recognition run through her, though what it meant she hardly knew. One of the men was holding a gun pointed at Sarah, and the other gripped a hauntingly familiar oxygen tank. Recognition flooded her for a split second, before the whispy tendrils of her memory left like smoke in the wind. Her mind distracted as the gun was fired and a small red hole appeared in Sarah's suddenly grey figure. She reached up tentatively and touched the blood pooling on her forehead before collapsing, her gray form melted away like a whisper spoken in a barren room. Riley cried out and clapped her hands to her own forehead as she felt overcome with blinding, white-hot pain. Red-warmth spilled out over her hands and through her fingers, and when she pulled her arms away from her face, they were gray. Dead. And gray._

"Help!" Riley woke with a start, yelling and sucking in breath like it was the last she would ever take. The thin woolen blanket covering the small bed was soaked in sweat and tangled around the lower half of her body, evidence of her tossing and turning. She scrambled out of the sheets as though they were burning her. She stood before the bed and reached under the pillow to pull out something hard, she flicked it open and revealed a small knife. It was shiny, with a blade that flicked into the black handle for storage.

Slowly Riley's breathing calmed as she looked at it. It was hers. The knife belonged to her, it made her feel safe.

_Riley lowered the gun from its perch on her shoulder and exhaustedly shook a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. She stiffly lowered her arm to her side as burning muscles protested the movement and placed the weapon on the table next to her. She looked to Mr. Raines, painstakingly trying to push the fatigue from her expression._

_It had taken many more attempts, but she had managed to pull in those two wild shots, they had finally pierced the cardboard within half an inch of the rest of the holes, the extent of the margin of error which Mr. Raines allowed her, and Riley was too tired to even pull her face out of the grimace of concentration it had formed into. Mr. Raines was studying her target closely, probably thinking about checking with a ruler, Riley thought sluggishly. He almost appeared to look... happy? No, wrong adjectiv; pleased, she decided. He looked pleased. Riley swayed slightly on her feet and dropped into a chair next to her.Trying to push aside the mental and physical fatigue, she turned to look at the man for further instruction. __Mr. Raines turned his gaze away from the target and moved to stand in front of the pretender, and Riley was too exhausted to even feel intimidated._

_"Well done Riley. I'm **satisfied** with your performance." He said._

_High praise from the man, satisfaction was all that Riley had learned to aim for with him. But it still felt nothing like the 'you have made me proud' that Mr. Lyle had awarded. Riley allowed her eyes to travel over the long table of armaments, until __they rested on the knife that she had inspected earlier and she gave it a cursory glance. She had liked how it seemed to fit her earlier, compared with all of the other weapons that she had ever used, that one had just felt right. There were so many weapons before her-- so many ways to kill a person. And yet Riley knew, that she wouldn't kill- even if she wanted to, it wasn't as though she could suddenly open up an attack on a sweeper. And why would she? What was the importance of her being an incredible marksman, when she would never be allowed to shoot anything more than cardboard targets? Riley picked up the knife as she had before and felt the handle almost melt into her grip. Sometimes this training just seemed pointless, so at least this knife gave her some sort of feeling back._

_"You like that knife Riley..." Mr. Raines shook her from her thoughts. It was more of a statement than a question and it almost seemed to push the idea into her mind- almost as though she had thought of it herself. The knife in itself wasn't all that special- it was nearly identical to several that she had seen over the years, and yet, now that Mr. Raines mentioned it, she did like it; she liked it a lot. Riley nodded her head in agreement with the statement._

_"Why?" He asked._

_The question surprised Riley. Hardly anyone ever asked her what she was feeling or thinking. It seemed odd that he should suddenly begin caring now._

_"I- I don't really know." Her eyebrows knit together as she thought about it. "It makes me feel safe."_

_"That's good Riley... Keep it..." Mr. Raines said abruptly._

_Riley looked up at him, startled._

_"I believe that you are old enough, and mature enough, to use it properly..."_

_**What would I have to use it for? **She wondered, anxiety creeping into her mind at the thought of actually putting it to use._

_"If it makes you feel safe... you should keep it."_

_"T-Thank you, Sir." Riley stuttered, wonderment growing as she realized, Mr. Raines had never giver her **anything **before._

Riley looked up and shoved the knife hurriedly back under the pillow as she heard the door to her room begin to open. A large sweeper that resembled a boulder in a suit stood in the doorway; he looked at her before scanning the room, his eyes resting on the pillow for a second longer than comfortable. 

"Is something wrong in here?"

Riley shook her head mutely, hoping that the man would go away soon; she didn't want him finding her hidden security for fear that he would confiscate it.

"I heard a yell." The sweeper pressed further.

"I-I had a n-nightmare. I-I was just frightened Sir."

The guard nodded his head once before barking at her to get back to sleep and closing the door with an ominous slam. She checked the knife again before getting back into her bed and shoving it under her pillow, her hand clasped around the handle; it made her feel safe.

In his office, Raines watched the security monitors, a look of sickening satisfaction growing on his features. His plan was working. 


	16. Chapter 16

_Pudder's second law: Anything that begins badly ends worse

* * *

_

Riley walked down the corridors of the Centre, being escorted by a sweeper on her way to the SIM Lab for the morning. The automatic doors to the familiar lab opened swiftly once the guard had swiped his keycard in front of the locking device and Riley was directed inside while the sweeper took up his post outside of the door. She stepped inside the large room and walked over to the director of her project, anxiously wondering where Mr. Lyle was.

"H-Hello Mr. Raines." She said quietly, hoping against hope that Mr. Lyle hadn't had to investigate another of Jarod's hiding places. She hadn't quite gotten over her last pretend with Mr. Raines and wasn't looking forward to working with him again quite so soon. Before this assignment, she had never before had to spend so much time with the man, but now, it was as though his presence never left her. She needed an escape-- a break from him. She needed some time where she didn't have to be _perfect._

"Riley." Mr. Raines acknowledged her while looking over what she now recognized as a SIM file that he was holding in his hands. Her hopes sank to somewhere in the region of her shoes and she resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't escape him for long. Mr. Raines took no further notice of her and Riley was only too grateful for the absence of his undivided attention. He always made her want to disappear- quickly and silently.

_Where is Mr. Lyle? Did they really find Jarod's new hideout so quickly? Why does Mr. Lyle have to go on _**every**_ raid? I wish he didn't just leave me here- at least he gave me notice last time. Stop wanting things you can't have, Stupid..._

Riley waited patiently until Mr. Raines was done perusing the papers before voicing the thoughts running around her head.

"Mr. Raines?"

"What." He growled.

"M-May I ask a q-question sir?" She asked timidly, his unfriendly tone making her decidedly more nervous.

Raines gave her a dismissive nod- looking slightly preoccupied.

"S-Sir. W-Where's Mr. Lyle?"

He snapped the folder shut in his hand and dropped it down onto the desk next to him. "You won't be working with him any longer."

"_What?_ But why?" Riley blurted out, unintentionally raising her voice slightly in distress at the news. He can't have meant that-- he meant something else, right? Mr. Lyle hadn't left her to him-- he couldn't! They'd worked together forever! He wouldn't just abandon her, he _wouldn't. _Riley backed up a few paces as Mr. Raines advanced on her, a pronounced scowl growing on his face. He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and slapped her, admonishing lightly "Don't show emotion Riley... it threatens your objectivity."

She shook the blow off, forcing her mind to focus; she hadn't failed to notice that he hadn't answered her question. She took a breath to calm herself down before asking again. "W-Why am I not working with Mr. Lyle anymore?" _Did I do something wrong?_

"Mr. Lyle was killed Riley. You're working with me from now on."

Riley felt her chest constrict and her mouth become impossibly dry. _Dead. No. Not Dead. Couldn't be dead. Not Dead. _It must have been a full minute before she fully registered Mr. Raines interesting choice of words. _Was killed? Not _died_? What does he mean **was killed**_... Killed by someone else.

"I...I don't understand what that means Sir. How do y-you mean 'was killed'?"

"Jarod murdered him Riley... Mr. Lyle is dead."

Riley stared at him. Mr. Lyle...killed by Jarod? Impossible... _it can't be real... not true... please... not true..._ Riley swallowed against the bile rising in her throat and shook her head to dispel the rampant thoughts.

"Come here Riley. You have a simulation to perform."

Riley's gaze was fixated on the ground, looking at it as though it might give the key to her salvation. "I-I don't want to do a SIM t-today Sir." She mumbled defeatedly, shaking her head lightly in a daze.

"What?"

"I-I don't want to do a SIM today sir." Riley brought her gaze up from the floor.

"You don't have a choice in the matter Riley... You will perform today's simulation without complaint or you will feel the consequences... Am I clear?" He told her, gravelly voice hitting her ears and making her reconsider for all of an instant.

"I'm not SIMing today. I'm not SIMing Jarod, Sir." Riley's voice lost its stammer as she became more confident in her statement. She wouldn't pretend today... not Jarod... not today.

Raines backhanded her with enough force to knock her to the floor. "You will do as told Riley." He growled, pulling her up by her upper arm and toward the center of the room.

"No! He killed Mr. Lyle! He's gone. He left just like Sarah and it's Jarod's fault and _I'm. Not. SIMing. Him!_ I'm not doing a SIM today." Riley struggled out of Mr. Raines grasp.

"Riley. This is Jarod's fault. All Jarod does is cause pain."

Riley shrank down against the wall behind her. Her head buried in her arms. "I hate him."

"Good Riley. Jarod deserves to be hated. He's a very bad person Riley. He killed Mr. Lyle."

"I want to kill him." She said quietly, heat pricked at her eyes and she pushed back the stinging wetness, she couldn't cry- she wouldn't let herself.

"Good Riley." Raines pulled her head up out of her arms by her hair and delivered a relatively light slap across her face, causing a large red mark to appear on her cheek. "That's _very_ good."

-

-

Miss Parker flung open the door to Lyle's office, waltzing in like she owned it. She stopped as her eyes registered the many boxes filled with personal affects dotting the room. "Knock much?" She heard Lyle's voice behind her- he was cleaning out his desk.

"What are you doing?" Parker was so confused that she didn't even manage a nasty retort.

"I'm packing. Are you blind?" Lyle said, indicating the stripped office around them.

"Landed ourselves another cushy assignment did we?" That just figured didn't it? Lyle, golden boy of the Triumvirate, got the best assignments, the best rewards. And none of his failures _ever _seemed to matter.

"Not exactly." Lyle said in a clipped tone, "I'm being transferred."

"Huh?"

"Wow Parker. Very articulate." He said snidely, picking up the box from his desk and moving it over to stand by the wall.

"Cut the crap Lyle. What are you talking about?"

"What were you- dropped on your head as a child? I told you. I've been transferred. I'm moving to a different division- away from here. You can break out the party hats now."

"What about Riley? Is she moving with you?" Parker asked, as much as the little twerp annoyed her, she was making the search for Jarod marginally easier, and that was saying something.

"No." Lyle said shortly.

Parker walked over to the desk and placed both hands on the flat surface. "But she's _your _project."

Lyle dropped into the chair behind him, for the first time in the conversation looking truly angry. "Not anymore. She's Raines' now. I've been pulled because I was too '_emotionally invested'_." He said sarcastically. His voice lowered to a mutter of disbelief that was directed more at himself than Parker. "I devoted eleven years to that project... And they're pulling me like it never even happened."

"So they're giving her to Raines? What the hell will that achieve? Riley can hardly get out a full sentence around him." Parker said, it was plain that the corporate machinations were at work once more. The Triumvirate would hardly make a decision like this on their own, would they? Not when they had been perfectly fine with Lyle being the girl's keeper all this time. Raines must have had something to do with it. She was sure.

"Well it doesn't matter anymore- she's headed to Africa and I've been barred access to her. Ten-to-one odds Raines is going to try to make her hate me. Look Parker- I still have to pack my apartment and I'm on a flight to God knows where by five tonight. If you see Raines, do me a favor and shoot him. It doesn't seem that I'll be given a chance any time soon." Lyle got up from his perch and looked around the office a moment to see if he had forgotten something. He looked back up at Parker. "Do it right. Don't miss." He told her mockingly, and Parker suddenly felt much less sorry (not that she was ever sorry for bad things happening to Lyle) about his plight. Lyle turned and left the office, and a few moments later Parker followed suit.

-

-

"Broots!" Miss Parker barked as she entered the pursuit team's office.

"Miss Parker?" The man jumped as his name was called.

"I just got some really interesting information from Lyle."

"What was it Parker?" Sydney asked, moving around from behind his desk.

"Lyle's been kicked off of Riley's project-- he's leaving the Centre tonight, and they haven't even given him the destination."

"Bet Lyle didn't take that well." Broots said, looking over interestedly from his positionin front of the computer terminal. "God, that means that little kid's gonna be with Raines now."

Parker nodded. "It gets worse. I did some digging on my way over here; she's being transferred to _Africa_."

"Africa?" Sydney parrotted. "To Triumvirate Headquarters?" He clarified with dismay. "She'll never survive there!"

Broots turned back to him monitor, shaking his head sadly. "Why would they give her to Raines? She can't work with him."

Parker just shrugged through her feeling of dazed confusion. "I'm betting he had a lot to do with it." She finally answered. "He's always had a lot of clout with the Triumvirate-- he just put it to good use."

Sydney sat down in front of his chess game, looking over the pieces absently. "Of course. With him as Riley's sole mentor he can control which simulations she does, how she performs them- and for whom. Riley is a powerful asset for Raines, she is the most fruitful pretender seen since Jarod, and they've given him complete control over her. If Raines plays his cards correctly, he could have the Triumvirate eating out of his hand."

A slightly sick look crossed Parker's face before she regained her composure, "I'll personally slit my veins before I see Dr. Demento in charge around here. Not happening." She said determinedly. Parker paced around the room before making a decision. "Broots. I want everything that you can dig up on Riley's project that's recent. I need to know what he's been doing now that Lyle's out of the picture... maybe there's something in there we can take to the Triumvirate."

"Well okay, but I'm going to have to hack into the Centre mainframe."

"Has that ever stopped us before?"

"No. Not really. No."

"So I don't expect you to have any problems then. If you need me I'll be in my office."

-

-

"Miss Parker?" Broots stuck his head through the door to Miss Parker's office.

"What have you got Broots?" Parker asked eagerly, walking over to the nervous technician.

"Well, I have this friend down in the surveillance room, you know, Pinky-"

"-Where's the brain?"

"What?"

"Never mind." She brushed off carelessly.

"Well, anyways, he got me in to see the DSA archives, and tada!-"

"Thinking about going in to magic Broots?"

"No. If I made myself disappear now I wouldn't be able to give you _this_." Broots said, producing a small disk with the current date on it.

Parker snatched the disk from Broots hand with a smile on her face. "Broots, you're a genius."

"Watch it. Saying that around here can get people killed."

"Nah, just taken captive." Parker said as she headed down to Sydney's office. Broots hurriedly scrambled after her, telling her the rest once they had reached their destination. "There was also a memo; apparently Riley is being transferred by this time tomorrow."

"What's the hurry?" Parker asked; a little peeved that they had almost no time to plan anything.

"Perhaps your knack for offsetting Raines' plans..." Sydney said.

"When that ghoul goes around here acting like he owns the place, he deserves to have some of his plans foiled. If his head grew any bigger he wouldn't have the ability to support it."

"So you're really doing him a service...?"

"Precisely."

Broots, tapped a few keys on the computer and turned around to them. "Miss Parker, I have the disk ready."

"Lets see what little horror Raines is creating in his funhouse this time." Parker said, joining him over by the monitor, leaning over his chair so that Broots had to hunker down in it. At one point in time, he might have told her she was 'in his personal space,' but he didn't bother anymore-- it was better just to move himself. The DSA player's screen faded in and Broots leaned forward as he slowly took in what he was seeing.

-

-

_"Riley. This is Jarod's fault. All Jarod does is cause pain."_

_Riley shrank down against the wall behind her. Her head buried in her arms. "I hate him."_

_"Good Riley. Jarod deserves to be hated. He's a very bad person Riley. He killed Mr. Lyle."_

_"I want to kill him."_

_"Good Riley." Raines hit the girl forcefully across the face, causing a large red mark to appear on her cheek. "That's very good."_

_-_

_-_

the disk went blank after that, it must have already been edited, and they were left staring at a black void. "He's teaching her to hate Jarod..." Broots said quietly.

"What he's doing is creating another mindless sociopath." Parker bit out, turning her back on the screen and pacing away.

Sydney folded his arms in front of him and scowled, giving a huff like an angry bull. "I cannot believe that monster would tell those sort of lies to a child."

"Can't you, though, Syd?" Parker amended for him. "He's done it before."

Broots swallowed against the sickened feeling clawing it's way out from his stomach and up his throat. "Does L-Lyle know about this?"

Parker shook her head, "He's already left."

"Are we going to tell Jarod?" He asked timidly, posing the question that was on all of their minds.

"No Broots. We're not going to say a thing." Parker said, turning around and giving both men pointed looks as she turned to leave. She looked around behind her, "Oh Sydney, you might want to check your e-mail, tonight."

Sydney nodded his head in agreement. "I'm sure I'll do so Parker. I was going to stick around tonight in any case; seek a little Refuge with my bonsai plants before turning in."

"Oh? Good Luck with that. I'll see you both in the morning." Parker grabbed her coat up and left the room, and neither coworker had any doubt that Jarod would be recieving an e-mail that night.


	17. Chapter 17

_Stockmayer's Theorem: If it looks easy, it's tough. If it looks tough, it's damn near impossible._

* * *

Riley paced around her space, rage coursing through her and refusing her rest. Mr. Lyle was gone. He had left. He had gone without saying goodbye- like Sarah. He was dead, killed, and he _wasn't coming back_. And Riley was mad at him; furious, blinded by a sorrow that would only allow itself to culminate in anger. It was Jarod's fault. Jarod killed him. Jarod stole him away. But it was Riley's fault too. It was Riley's fault that it mattered to her. After Sarah had left she had promised herself that she wouldn't care about anything anymore. Caring was weakness. Caring got you hurt. And yet, Riley had been unable to repress a her desire for a companion. So she had cared. 

_I didn't get Jarod captured in time... It's my fault... It's all my fault._

She slipped down the back wall of her room, running hands through her hair in frustration at the situation. She had been trained to do so many things, but during the one time where it really mattered she had not the first clue what to do. The thing that quite possibly frustrated Riley the most however, wasn't Mr. Lyle's death. Ever since she had begun working with Mr. Raines on a full time basis Riley had been filled with rage, a fury that didn't have an origin she could identify and pinpoint. It was completely out of her control and despite how hard she tried she couldn't seem to force her mask of neutrality into place. She had lost it somewhere, and it wasn't returning anytime soon. She didn't want to show this much emotion to the world. She didn't like feeling this transparent, didn't like showing her pain. But she knew the pain that she couldn't stop was evident on her face; the pain of being betrayed.

_Rileyfidgeted slightly as she was given instructions on how to perform a simulation; her first simulation. She looked nervously up at the man kneeling in front of her._

_"Mr. Lyle I don't wanna do it." She said in a quiet, uncertain voice. She didn't want Mr. Lyle to get mad at her, he was nice, but he could be scary when he was mad at her. "I want you to stay."_

_"Stay?But I'm not going anywhere--What don't you want to do Riley?" he asked her with a small, confused, but indulgent smile on his face._

_"I don't want to do the simulation." Riley mumbled to the floor, unwilling to meet his gaze, she could feel that he was disappointed and she felt her stomach fill with lead as guilt overcame her. She didn't want to disappoint him._

_"Riley, you have to. We've talked about this, why don't you want to SIM?"_

_"B-Because I might mess it up, and I don't want you to leave!" The little girl said, distress making itself known in her voice._

_"Riley, you aren't going to make a mistake and- wait a minute, why would I leave?" Lyle asked, a puzzled expression coming over his handsome features._

_"Sarah left." Riley muttered towards the floor. "And it's my fault, I wasn't good enough."_

_"Weren't good enough?" Mr. Lyle looked, if possible, even more confused._

_"Why else would she leave? She found something better than me! So she left! And I don't wanna make a mistake 'cause then you'll leave too!"_

_He knelt down in front of her, pulling the little girl forward, resting his hands on her shoulders. He looked her straight in the eye, "Riley, I'll never leave."_

_"P-promise?" The little girl asked quietly. Finally raising her head to meet his gaze with hopeful eyes._

_"I promise. You're my ticket to the top after all -- I definitely don't want to give up on that."_

Riley got up to pace some more, stopping by her bed to pick up her knife. She comfortably slipped it from hand to hand, allowing the feeling of safety it created in her to bring her peace.

-

-

In another part of the building Mr. Raines and the Triumvirate representative from his earlier meeting watched the girl on a monitor.

"Mr. Raines I'm afraid that I fail to see how your pretender having a mental breakdown is going to cause Jarod to be brought in faster." The woman said crossly, "This is a **waste of time.**"

"A mental breakdown is the _only _thing that will have Jarod returned sooner." Raines countered. "I've given the subject a reason to hate Jarod... she will want to cause as much pain for him as he has caused for her... She will be compelled to work at a much faster pace to bring him in."

"I see." A small grin broke out on the woman's handsome face. "And how are you causing this breakdown, Raines?"

"I've placed the girl into a situation that has caused massive amounts of emotion... She, however, has never been taught how to deal with emotions... she's never been allowed to express them, and so she will not have the capacity to cope with them. The subject's feelings will manifest in the only emotion she has ever been shown: anger. It can be a powerful motivator, and it will work in our favor."

The grin became wider. "The Triumvirate will be pleased by your progress, especially when it has occurred so quickly. I look forward to any more updates on _your_ project Doctor." The woman hesitated as she turned to leave, abruptly stopping her route to the door and speaking again. "I must say I'm very curious about this new project- you always did present us with the best experiments."

"I'm certain that you will be satisfied... with a regular state of progress." Raines said, glancing down at the monitor in front of him.

"I don't suppose there is any way that I could speak with the project, without causing any damage to this experiment Dr. Raines?" She asked delicately.

Raines was privately surprised by the woman's request; while it wasn't unreasonable it was certainly unexpected. The Triumvirate typically saw the Centre as merely one of many outlets for making money. Its interest in the buildings simply financial- he himself actually doubted if the Triumvirate knew all of the secrets of the Centre, especially when Raines planned on taking many of them with him to his grave. If she were given access to Riley could she damage the project? Doubtful... in fact... perhaps he could use this woman's interest to his advantage...

"Actually, some help with the next stage in this program, if you would be amenable... would be advantageous." He wheezed, rolling nearer to her."I need to put the girl in a situation that will push her anger over the edge... once I have her past this stage... she'll do anything for us."

"Excellent. You can expect my help in this latest... enterprise. The plane for transport to Africa should be ready by within five hours. I shall see you then. Please know, the Triumvirate appreciates how you understand the situation with Jarod as we do, unlike some, you have always managed to see with us eye to eye. I'd like you to know, where I come from, good deeds always come with rewards."

"Anything... for the Triumvirate."

"Of course."

-

-

Riley sighed, pulling her knife out of the wall and stepping back a few paces before throwing it again. She couldn't help but imagine the wall to be Jarod's head as she concentrated her aim. The knife shot out of her hands and the tip buried shallowly in a large crack running the length of her wall, a fissure in the soft mortar between cinderblocks. She was amazed it stuck at all, but figured the building was so ancient, and that the subterrenean levels were so ill-kept, that the deterioration was explainable. When the blade struck the wall, small chips of mortar and cement chattered as they fell down the wall, spilling a small stain of white powder onto her bed blanket. Riley started from her thoughts as her door opened and Mr. Raines walked in, his gaze landing on the quivering blade.

"Something... on your mind, Riley?"

"N-No Sir." She said timidly, eyes to the ground, the tops of her ears turning red at the falacy. She wasn't supposed to lie to anyone from the Centre, especially not Mr. Raines, but she didn't want to land herself in trouble either.

"Don't lie to me Riley." Mr. Raines rasped, stepping closer, but he didn't move to strike her, for which she was both thankful and confused.The tips of her ears flared, if possible, even hotter and she mumbled a small apology at the admonishment.

"Tell me the truth." Mr. Raines intoned.

"I'mjustangrysir." This sentence was mumbled even more quietly as Riley admitted that she couldn't control her emotions- something that had been taboo for longer than she could remember. Despite her fear, she knew she could not lie to him-- he saw through her. He always saw through her; lying would only land her in worse trouble.

"At Jarod?" Raines prompted.

A small nod met the question. She swallowed thickly past the fear clogging her throat and refused to bring her gaze up from the floor, where it rested on his well-polished shoes.

In a wholly unsettling move Mr. Raines moved forward and dropped a hand onto her shoulder. She tried not to jump away, feeling as though small insects were crawling along under her skin the longer he had contact with her. With Mr. Lyle, Riley knew, _had known, _that sometimes this gesture was meant to be reassuring, but she could not garner any comfort from Mr. Raines' feeble parody. He never tried to comfort her. He pulled her a step closer to himself and then the hand moved under her chin, lifting her gaze to his face, he leaned forward. "That's good Riley... Remember... this is Jarod's fault."

"Y-Yes sir."

Mr. Raines released her, thankfully, and walked over to pluck the knife out of the wall "Your aim is improving," he commented before handing it to Riley, "Let me see you throw it."

Riley took a deep breath to rid herself from the lingering feeling of sickness that she felt with his presence, and fingered the knife contemplatively before letting it fly at the wall opposite.

Mr. Raines again plucked the blade from its purchase there. "Keep both eyes open... steady your arm while aiming." He handed her the knife once more, "Try again."

Riley nodded, aiming the weapon at the same place as she had every other time; she closed one eye out of habit before hastily opening it again. She envisioned Jarod's face and threw the knife. It thunked as it found the crack she had been aiming it at and caught purchase, quivering lightly so that Riley thought it might fall.

Raines looked at the blade, which was buried about a quarter of an inch into the grey cement wall, and Mr. Raines folded his arms in front of himself. A far less antagonistic gesture than anything else he might have done-- this meant he wasn't about to take a swing at her anytime soon-- and Riley took heart in what seemed to be his satisfaction.

"Excellent Riley, you're learning. But next time we'll have to find you a more suitable target than your bedroom walls..." He said, eyeing her sternly.

"S-Sorry sir. I just- I like the knife; it..." She tried to explain, for the first time that night thinking that he might decide to take it away, now that he saw how she was using it. She hoped he wouldn't-- she liked it so much-- and he had said that she was ready for it, hadn't he? "It makes me feel safe."

Raines hit her across the face, leaving a stinging red mark on her cheek. "It always will... It's good that you like it Riley... it used to belong to Mr. Lyle... I gave it to him... when he was only a bit older than you are now." Raines stopped speaking as he thought back to the time when he had given Lyle this knife; it was about a week before he had decapitated his best friend.

"This belonged to Mr. Lyle?" Riley asked, trying to keep the excitement from her voice at the discovery. That must explain her attachment to it-- she had always been inexplicably attracted to belongings of his-- and she liked knowing she had something tangible to remember him by. Another pendant from another dead mentor... the thought rankled and she pushed her sudden depression to the back of her mind. She wouldn't think of it that way. Whe wanted to like it.

Raines nodded slowly "Someday you may have the opportunity... to use it as well as he did."

She nodded solemnly, wondering what he had used it for, but knowing that it must have been good. "I-I hope so sir."


	18. Chapter 18

_Finagle's Fourth Law: __Once a job is fooled up, anything done to improve it will only make it worse.

* * *

_

"Where is he Riley?" Mr. Raines circled around the girl standing before him. Pictures lined the walls of the SIM lab and DSA's were being projected on various screens around them, chronicling the work of the best pretender this establishment had seen for the better part of thirty years. Riley stared at the media around her, using her empathic abilities to feel the emotions emitted from each piece of history, trying to find the logic in them, trying to unravel Jarod's psyche. But there was too much of it, it was assaulting her.

"Become Jarod Riley... Where is he...? Where is he going...? Find him Riley." He continued to circle, like a shark.

"I-I can't sir." She hung her head. Empathing with Mr. Raines was easier than pretending with him, but she still could never shake the suffocating feeling that _something was very wrong_.

Raines hit her, "Yes you can... you have the ability... use it..."

"I-I'm trying." Riley stammered out, trying to ignore the stinging from her split lip.

"If you were really trying Riley, you would have already found him." He wheezed, then trying another tack, "Riley, Jarod killed Mr. Lyle."

"I know sir." She struggled to keep the emotion from her voice.

"Do you even want Jarod brought back?" he asked with disgust.

"Of course I do!" her head snapped up, eyes indignant, lip curled in a stubborn line.

"Then find him."

She dropped back down into the small plastic chair behind her, resting her elbows on her knees and steepling her fingers in front of her, resting her chin on her thumbs. She scrutinized the projector screen in front of her keenly. After a few more minutes of this, of reading a strange blend of either no feelings or too many feelings, as though someone were fiddling with the dials on a radio, going from fuzzy to blaring every half-second, she gave up. She ran her hands threw her hair frustratedly and rubbed at her stinging eyes. "I'm trying sir. I _swear_-" she answered miserably.

"Trying isn't good enough Riley... Become him and find a way to bring him back where he belongs... If you had found him sooner Mr. Lyle would still be here..."

Hurt washed through her at that thought and she looked up at him wretchedly. "It's my fault... isn't it...?" Guilt and shame burned through her.

"Yes Riley." Raines paused, allowing the negative emotions to thoroughly consume her. "But you can redeem yourself... " he dangled out the promise of hope, redemption. "Bring Jarod back...make him feel pain Riley... he deserves pain... bring him back home."

Riley nodded, her attention fully focused on the information in front of her. She was picking up thousands of feelings at once; sounds and images flashed in her head, memories, dreams, alien experiences that had happened to Jarod. They were suddenly happening to her, but she was detached, so they _weren't _happening to her at the same time- a myriad of blurry and detailed encounters. Jarod's world went by in flashes of color and sound. She had finally found her center of balance, the key that would allow her to become Jarod. She had found her way in.

_A boy was playing with a toy airplane, running past his parents; circling a block building in an office- where are my parents? "Hello my name is Sydney."; refuge Jarod; Cree Craw Toads Foot Geese Walk Barefoot; fear...a dark room, oppressively so... shadows moved in unreachable corners; sweepers standing outside a doorway; I want my mommy and daddy!; can I go outside?; I don't want to pretend anymore!; Where's Kyle?... What happened to him? dark suited men carrying away a scared young boy- "Jarod help me!"; Apollo mission... the door was jammed... "I'm burning! I'm burning!"; "You're a girl!" soft skin... warm smile... "Miss Parker"; i ma ybodon ; Cree Craw Toads Foot Geese Walk Barefoot...; kiss... mint taste... Miss Parker; Miss Parker...Miss Parker...Miss Parker_

"Miss Parker..." Riley breathed out, taken aback by the experiences and feelings associated with merely the name.

Mr. Raines stopped his pacing, "What?"

"Miss Parker!" Riley ran to the DSA projector at the back of the lab, rewinding the viewer to the first image of the girl on screen that Jarod was so fascinated with... _soft skin... a girl... surprise... kiss... adventure... _the frame was frozen on the wall_... Miss Parker, Jarod...  
_  
"What is it Riley?"

"I-I... I don't know!" Riley said, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "I don't know what it is, but it's something... something important to him... it's something that we can use... at least, I think it is!" She was excited, energized, but was having trouble with the unfamiliar emotions.

"What can we use Riley?"

"It's an emotion, but I don't think that I've ever felt it before... I-I don't know what it is Sir..." More anger and frustration impaled her; What was it! Why didn't she know what it was!

"Describe it Riley." Raines said, though he was already very sure about what the young empath was trying to say. Raines was not all that surprised at Riley's revelation, but he had always imagined that it would have been Sydney. Sydney had always been the weak link in the pursuit of Jarod. But the irony of it was delicious. He would use the hunteress to ensnare the hunted.

"I don't know sir... it's... it's... complex... he would... do... anything... He would do anything for her." Riley said, gaining confidence in her understanding. "I think that if we were to make him believe that Miss Parker were in trouble, he would probably come back to the Centre in exchange for her safety... But I'm not certain... There are other things that he could do if he were given the time to think up a plan of action... The Centre would need to create a situation where Jarod was powerless... like an ultimatum... he'd need to believe that coming back to the Centre was his only choice."

"Well done... The Triumvirate will be pleased that you have reached such a solution Riley...Good job." Raines said, smiling evilly as left the room, giving some instructions to the sweeper outside the doorway as he passed.

All Riley had ever needed was the right motivation.

After Raines had left, Riley slumped with relief. She was still terribly confused by the emotions that she had experienced. She wanted to know what they meant. They had been so different from her experiences. But she pushed the thought away. She had pleased Mr. Raines today, no small accomplishment, and if it meant that Jarod would be brought back to pay, perhaps she could avenge Mr. Lyle.

-

-

Jarod rounded the bend in the road and a smile broke out on his face at the farmhouse that greeted him. A large, southern sun hung low in the sky and lit up the creamy white paint on the home from behind. A gravel drive diverted from the main road and led up to the house and a small barn stood off to one side. The entire scene looked picturesque; it was quaint and had the distinct feel of a home. Jarod had lived hundreds, perhaps thousands of places over the years, but none of them had quite given him the same feeling as when he came here. Jarod exited the vehicle, purposely slamming the door loudly to alert the occupants of this house to his presence. Moments later and Jarod was being enveloped in a vice-gripped hug, the smell of his father's cologne imprinting itself in the back of his mind. The boy, Jarod had yet to find out what to call him, stood on the porch, slightly off to the side, and gave Jarod an odd look. It almost looked like... fear... Jarod knew what that fear was for. He had sensed it in the boy every time he had come to visit his father; the boy was scared Jarod would steal his father, steal away the only stability he had managed to attain. Jarod knew that feeling; he had felt it himself for a short time when he had first found out about the clone. Jarod was still a little ashamed of such feelings, and his logic had been warped while he had them, he knew. His only thought had been, 'why would they ever want me when they can have him; a younger, less damaged copy?' Jarod understood now that there was never any reason to fear. The boy would come around in time. He really couldn't blame him; it was a purely natural reaction for a child who had never had to share anything before in his life, specifically a single person's attention. It was so simple an equation that most people would overlook it; divide one part father, between two parts son, equals half the attention for either.

Jarod smiled at him disarmingly as he headed into the house to outline the situation to his father.

-

-

"They did it again!" Major Charles slammed his fist angrily down on the coffee table and stood up to pace the room. "Why can't they just leave you alone!"

Will scoffed inwardly from where he was eavesdropping; the Major didn't understand. To men like Raines, they hadn't taken anything from Jarod; if anything _he owed them_ something. To men like Raines, Jarod was property that had no right to simply up and run away. The Major would never understand that, Will thought, quietly picking himself up from the floor where he had stationed himself and unobtrusively making his way down the hall. He slowly closed the door of his bedroom behind him, holding the knob so as not to attract attention, and flopped down onhis bed. The Centre certainly had done it again, they created another child, not a clone like himself, but a pretender nonetheless. She was a genius, a pretender, an empath, and if his own experiences with Mr. Raines were any indication to go by, a complete whack-job.

_And she's coming here. _

Upon hearing that Jarod would be stopping by to visit, Will had been elated, but his joy had quickly vanished when he learned why. It only figured that Jarod would need a reason such as this one to check in, it simply never occurred to him that he could actually visit the father that he had searched so desperately for. Jarod was odd like that, he spent all of his time looking for family, and when he finally had it, he _dumped_ them.

_You know it's safer this way_ some inner voice chided him, but he wanted to ignore it, wanted to be angry with Jarod; it was easier than trying to like him, easier than trying to ignore the fact that he didn't particularly like the man he might become. Will shook himself from that train of thought, he didn't want to try to psycho-analyze himself, looking for the reason for his negative emotions towards Jarod; they didn't make sense, and would probably only reveal some weakness within himself which he wouldn't want to face. He turned his thoughts instead to the girl who would be coming, what would she be like? He himself had arrived at the farm with enough problems to keep psychiatrists busy until rapture.

_I might want to suggest to Dad that we stock up on some more sleeping pills. _He smiled grimly as he thought of his own frequent nightmares. _Tylenol P.M.; America's favorite babysitter. _


	19. Chapter 19

_Johnson's Third Law: __If you miss one issue of any magazine, it will be the issue that contains the article, story or installment you were most anxious to read._

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_-_

_Shirts. Pants. Suits. Shoes. Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Shampoo. Comb._

Lyle mentally counted off the items as he placed them meticulously into the suitcase laid out on his bed. The items being packed now would go with him to his new office in Maine, while the rest stayed here, waiting to be packed and shipped to him by Centre employees. Not altogether at peace with the idea of having unknown personnel packing up his apartment, he sighed uneasily at the thought of what they might uncover. Unfortunately, he only had time to pack up the essentials, and most of his belongings didn't fit into that category. Lyle looked around his apartment, odd collections of ornaments displayed on tables and walls gave voice to the many places he had already moved to because of the Triumvirate. Masks from Africa gazed down from their hangings on the wall and several sculpted artifacts from his escapades in Asia were arrayed on most of the flat surfaces in the residence.

The only place untouched by any of these decorations was a desk in the corner. This small space was dedicated to things of a different nature entirely; the face was littered with DSA's and files. Simulation folders were stacked neatly on one side, waiting to be sold to their respective clients. Inside the desk however, were collections of a different sort; various gifts that Lyle had accumulated over the years resided in these drawers- many of them were drawings. Most of these items he had received when Riley was much younger, before the place she had grown up in had taken over her completely. Lyle casually inserted a DSA into the player without looking in reference to the date and padded back over to his suitcase, listening to the sounds the recording emitted.

_Socks. Jacket..._

Lyle paused in his ministrations and turned with a look of horror dawning on his face towards the DSA player.

_"... why don't you want to pretend?"_

_"B-Because I might mess it up, and I don't want you to leave!"_

_"Riley, you aren't going to make a mistake and- wait a minute, why would I leave?" _Lyle noted the evident surprise in his voice and took another miserable look towards his half- packed suitcase.

_"Sarah left." There was a pause in the noise before- "And it's my fault, I wasn't good enough."_

_"Weren't good enough?"_

_"Why else would she leave? She found something better than me! A better project or something! So she left! And I don't wanna make a mistake 'cause then you'll leave too!"_

_"Riley, I'll never leave."_

_"P-promise?"_

"I promise." Lyle muttered dazedly, cutting off his younger self. He strode over to the player and hastily switched it off. Staring at the now white screen, though not quite actually seeing it, he slumped into a chair, his brows furrowed in thought. Memories were overtaking him, uninvited, and unwanted. Lyle found no particular joy in dealing with these, not now, it was far too late to develop a conscience this far into the game. He sat like that, blankly staring at the player, until the sounding of a slammed doorsomewhere else in the apartment complexstirred him. He sat up suddenly and, seemingly coming to a decision, headed out the door. As if by a second thought he rushed back into the apartment and grabbed up the suitcase before walking out a final time.

-

-

The Triumvirate representative walked with a purposeful stride towards Raines' office. A dark scowl was plastered across her face as she walked past the man's secretary without any warning or introduction and sauntered, uninvited, into his office. The man she had come to see was stationed at his desk, looking over a red folder lying out in front of him. He looked up in slight surprise as she barged into the office so unexpectedly; however the slip in his expression disappeared in an instant to be replaced by the coolly professional façade which she had already become accustomed to seeing on his face.

"Miss Zurbin." He acknowledged her presence neutrally, and she noticed that he was already attempting to gain power in the discussion. The abrupt entrance into his office should have left him rattled, if only for a moment, and was designed to give her the advantage. She didn't allow him the chance to take any more of her influence from the situation and began speaking in a clipped tone which wouldn't allow him to interrupt her.

"The Triumvirate will not tolerate your excuses any longer Mr. Raines. The plane to Africa should have taken off hours ago and yet your pretender has not even been prepared for transport." By prepared she meant good and properly knocked out, but the Triumvirate had always preferred to go with subtlety and she had no intention of changing that. "The Triumvirate will not wait any longer." It also liked to speak of itself in the third person, who was she to break with tradition?

Mr. Raines stood up from his chair, once again taking more authority from her, as it is very difficult to berate a person who stands taller than yourself.

"Yes." He agreed with her, which already placed her off guard, she hadn't expected that. "But-" Of course there was a catch. "I would hate to have to call us all back to the Centre just as we had left." He stated in a most casual manner.

Miss Zurbin could have screamed in frustration, he was forcing her to play by his rules once again. She was in a position which would force her to ask why. She kept what dignity she had left and merely raised an eyebrow, a hand placed aggressively on her hip.

Raines took the hint to keep talking, and while he had hoped for her to rise to his carefully placed bait in a less haughty comportment, he didn't pull her strings further. "I had merely assumed that the Triumvirate would want to personally witness the recapture of our wayward pretender." He said, in reference to Jarod.

"That's a rather loaded statement Mr. Raines." She told him skeptically, though she couldn't help the feeling of hopeful curiosity rising in her chest. Finally, after four years, were they to actually see results?

"The subject has devised a way to recapture him... A way in which, instead of chasing him... he will come to us." Raines told her, and watched a slow smile begin to span across her face. A _Duchenne _smile, he noted, watching for the particular muscles in her face, old memories of medical texts surfacing from old habit. The woman quickly schooled her face into a more neutral expression however, probably just remembering that she had come here wanting to appear angry and powerful.

"I assume that at the _very least_ the next step in the girl's new program can go ahead as we discussed?" She began walking out of the door, giving him no opportunity to tell her no, and stating quite clearly that it was going to happen now whether he liked it or not. It was time the old lapdog remembered his place around here, she thought angrily to herself. Her annoyance emanating partially from the fact that she had allowed him to take that much control of the situation. The man was an incredible psychologist- the Triumvirate wouldn't have hired him otherwise, and she should have been better prepared.

-

-

Riley sat at a small table in the middle of the simulation lab, her back to the door. Her head rested on her arm, lying atop the workspace, while she beat out an irregular tattoo on the desk with a pencil. The odd rhythm helped to stave off her boredom as she waited to be taken back to her room, having finished her last simulation nearly half an hour ago. The pencil's beat stopped abruptly, as Riley felt more than heard a new presence on the other side of the door. She straightened out of habit and listened as the door behind her was pushed open. Grudgingly feigning disinterest, as the handcuffs framing her wrists and looped around the table leg wouldn't allow her to turn to face the new person; she listened raptly to the approaching footfalls, trying to match the stride to a recognizable owner. The eerie squeaking of wheels was only made conspicuous by its absence, and the footsteps didn't match the brisk, business-like manner of a sweeper. The stride was relaxed in its confidence, as though the person owned the place. The emotions in the air didn't match with Miss Parker, but the shoes did sound like the same kind that Miss Parker wore, a woman then... but not one that she was familiar with. Riley glared down at the silver bands encircling her wrists, uncomfortable with the idea of being at the mercy of some unseen foe.

"Ah yes, I can imagine that would be annoying."

Riley suppressed the urge to jump slightly in her seat as a voice behind her made its presence known. She turned her head to follow its creator as she came to sit beside her. Riley tugged her legs up to her chest, the loose handcuffs allowing just enough movement for her to rest her arms on her knees, as a subconscious way of ensuring her personal space around this unfamiliar woman. The stranger wore African clothes, with beautiful embroidery and more color than Riley could remember seeing in her life. She was tall, or at least tall to Riley, who wasn't exactly a giant in stature, and had very dark skin and even darker eyes, her hair was cropped close to her head and she carried herself in a manner that Riley could only describe as regally.

"Hello Riley." The woman spoke in English, though her accent gave the words an odd musical lilt.

"Ma'am." Riley said quietly. She tensed, her eyes widening slightly as the woman reached out; touching her on the cheek where Mr. Raines lessons from earlier had left a small bruise.

"Ah yes, you are a touchy one aren't you." The woman spoke, withdrawing her hand enough to allow Riley to relax slightly again. "A child of the Centre to be certain." She said, but Riley couldn't interpret the tone of her voice enough to tell if these words were spoken with interest or disapproval. She didn't know what to say to this insight so she stared determinedly at her shoes, tracing the crisscross pattern of her laces with her eyes. "You should have been ours from the beginning." The woman uttered quietly, making Riley think that she was no longer talking to anyone specific, but merely voicing an opinion. "I am a member of the Triumvirate, and I must say I was rather impressed with your presentation the other day. You are a very interesting subject, I doubt I've seen one of your caliber before- Jarod to be certain, but I must say he was rather a bit more temperamental if I remember correctly...yes...but it would seem that Mr. Raines has done a much better job with you..." The woman said the last part quietly, as though she were thinking out loud, and she trailed off at the end, leaving Riley to squirm under her piercing look. "Centre prodigies have always fascinated me, I'm a bit of a scientist by nature you see, and you all are _quite_ the experiments."

Riley's hands balled into fists, latching onto the pants of her standard grey uniform to stop her hands from shaking and she fidgeted under the woman's scrutiny. Nervous thoughts ran rampant through her mind. She was sitting face to face with a member of the Triumvirate! But why? What had she done wrong?

"You're not scared are you?" The woman looked around the desolate room, before turning her attention back to the project in front of her. "But I suppose for such an isolated specimen as yourself even one unfamiliar person must be terrifying, especially without other people around. People you know of course."

Riley fidgeted even more with the handcuffs she was wearing, avoiding looking at the powerful presence next to her. She didn't like the feeling of having her emotions read so easily. She was so used to being the reader, rather than the one being read.

"Would you like to be rid of those?" The woman asked her, producing a key from a small inside pocket. Riley's gaze immediately flitted towards the camera above them recording her every move before she returned her gaze mutely to the woman in front of her.

"Don't worry about Mr. Raines, he has given his approval." The woman said, anticipating this reaction.

Riley gave a small nod, relief at being given the freedom of mobility seeping through her, though her face stayed relatively unexpressive. She was stoic. She was made of stone. She was not going to let her fear, her relief, or her thankfullness show. She was not going to give the woman anything to criticize her on.

The woman reached out and took Riley's cuffed hands, ignoring the pretender's immediate tensing. The woman unlocked the cuffs easily, but didn't let go. She watched as Riley's anxiety level built before purposefully altering her emotions so that she was sending waves of anguish that threatened to choke Riley's acute empathic senses. She watched the young girl's face express a series of emotions, her eyes screwing up in what seemed pain.

Rileycried out in agony, scrambling backwards the instant the woman let her go, tumbling out of the chair, which fell over with a clatter, the sound reverberating around the large laboratory. Shepushed herself up against the wall behind her, horrified stare flashing, up, down, up, from the woman then to her hands, as though they had been scalded. Her breathing was heavy, as though she had run a marathon, and her throat was tight and constricted. She tried desperately to gain control of her faculties, screwing her eyes shut against the water threatening to break behind them. Her mind felt as though it had been invaded, and sent shattering waves of misery between her ears, as though she had had her eardrums blown out. It seemed as though she could singularly feel each individual brain cell, and all of them were on fire.

"Intriguing. Riley I'm curious, did that cause you pain?"

Riley looked at her antagonist as though she had sprouted another head.

"Honestly girl, I'm only doing a bit of research, you can appreciate that. Now this is for posterity so answer truthfully, did I just hurt you?"

Riley pushed residual pain to the back of her mind as she adopted a neutral expression, for once in her life glad that she wasn't allowed to show her own emotions. She focused her gaze on her hands, attempting to ignore the woman in front of her. She was playing a dangerous game, ignoring a superior; she was blatantly disregarding a direct order. She should answer, but somewhere in between being treated like a child's favorite toy and being outright attacked she had lost the ability to use her own voice. Riley couldn't understand- her abilities had never been used against her like that before. It had hurt her, was she being punished? Had she done something wrong?

"Riley I'd like an answer or I may be tempted to perform that little experiment again. Do I make myself plain?" The woman continued. You could have never told from her voice that she was angry, it was in her eyes, they had gone cold and hard. The woman no longer needed to touch her for Riley to be accosted by emotions. The regal lady got up gracefully and moved closer to Riley, noting how the girl seemed to try to melt into the wall as she came within reaching distance. She touched a finger to Riley's temple and the teen curled into an- if possible- even tighter ball, biting into her lip until it bled to stop herself from whimpering in pain. Through a haze of anguish Riley felt the finger remove itself, somewhat lessening the spasms of torment being transmitted into her psyche. She cautiously opened her eyes as she sensed rather than heard Mr. Raines step in front of her and her attacker.

"Ms. Zurbin, if I might... have a word with my project?"

"Not at all Mr. Raines. Not at all."

Raines picked up Riley by the back of her shirt, dragging the traumatized teenager into an office just off the main SIM lab. He released her, pushing her against a chair, causing her to stumble and forcing her to sit.

"What did you think... you were doing?" Raines began. "You are a direct reflection on me, as well as the people who raised you." He wheezed, temper apparently rising far enough to cause him real difficulty breathing."You were speaking with a Triumvirate representative... and you showed her more disrespect than you have shown most people in a lifetime."

"I-I'ms-sorrysir." Riley mumbled dejectedly, shaking like a leaf and still trying to get over the pain that was lingering behind her temples.

"She asked you a simple question Riley. A child could have answered that... I expect better from you ." He growled. "No matter what anyone tells you to do Riley, you should always cooperate... You should always do as your told Riley, _always_." Raines hit the girl across the face, snapping her head to one side and worsening the bruise already present on her cheek. Riley stumbled to the floor at the impact, her legs rubbery from the previous moment's torture, mind spinning as she tried to come up with an argument for her behavior that might seem plausible.

"But-"

"It's not your place to argue, Riley." Raines said, stepping forward menacingly.

"But... I was following orders; _your_ orders. _You_ said not to show emotions... that they were weakness- I wasn't being disrespectful sir... You said not to show weakness." She said, still trying to get her spinning and stunned mind caught up with the present time.

"And my orders come first... correct?" Raines prodded her, especially interested in this answer as it would show him the results of her previous programming.

"Of course... I mean- they do... they always have." Riley answered, unsure if her answer was correct or not.

"Then if you aren't supposed to show emotions... and you are expected to answer... what should your answer _be,_ Riley?"

"I don't- I mean-" She stuttered through her response, not quite sure what she meant. No, the answer was no; she didn't feel any pain, it had to be... Riley felt the solution Mr. Raines was seeking click into place in her mind. But that would be lying... and she wasn't supposed to do that either, what did he expect from her? Her frustration and anger, always near the surface as of late, rose quickly inside of her.

"What should your answer be Riley?" He prompted her.

Riley looked up at him from the ground in disbelief. "You want me to lie." She said, her tone almost accusing.

"No Riley, I want you to do what is expected of you."

"What's expected of me- but that _is_ lying! How am I supposed to not show emotions, to not show pain, when its emotions that are causing me to be in pain! That's impossible!" She said, angrily rising to her feet. Something in the back of her mind told her she was yelling, told her that what she was doing was bad- she shouldn't be doing this, not in front of Mr. Raines. Not after everything she had been taught all her life.

"Riley!" His reproaching glare was enough to stop her tirade dead in its tracks. She wasn't used to disagreeing and the fight dissipated inside her until the only thing left was a hollow feeling reminding her that once again, her opinion didn't matter. She hung her head in miserable defeat, quietly waiting for whatever judgment the whim of her mentor decided she deserved. She steeled herself against the expected blow, but looked up in confusion when it never came. Instead, Mr. Raines seemed to have decided to answer her question.

"Ignore it. Take the pain and turn it into something you can use."

"Something I can use...?" Riley repeated, perplexed.

"Turn your pain into anger Riley... Use it as a motivation." He said. Riley wanted to ask what he meant, but he continued. "Take your weakness and turn it into strength... Harness it, control it so that it meets your needs; use your anger in your actions and decisions... You should always be the person in control of a situation... Don't ever relinquish that control. You are the person with the power to decide."

Riley chewed her bottom lip in hesitation, trying to wrap her mind around such a foreign concept. "Sir?"

"What."

"What if..." She paused before doggedly continuing with her question. "What if I can't control my anger?"

Raines paused before answering. "You'll suffer my... displeasure." He said darkly.

Riley diverted her gaze back to the ground, her imagination filling in the holes in the statement vividly, and she halted any more questions that might come to mind.

"Am I clear?"

Riley nodded mutely. Yes, he had made his point very clearly.

Mr. Raines left the room, and met up with a sweeper outside of the simulation lab. "Take the girl back to her space." He wheezed before procuring a manila folder and handing it to the man. "And get a team together." He ordered, indicating the folder in the large sweeper's hand. The man nodded once before opening the folder to the single sheet of paper it contained. He glanced at its contents before looking up questioningly.

"The Chairman's daughter Sir?"


	20. Chapter 20

_Corollary to Johnson's Third Law: __All of your friends either missed it, lost it or threw it out._**

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**

1...2...3rd step, turn... 1...2...3rd step, turn...

Riley paced around the small area of her room, feverishly going back and forth from her bed to the desk. It was three steps in either direction, four if her strides were smaller. Riley laced her fingers behind her head, attempting to clear her turbulent mind with deep breaths but she couldn't seem to relax. Her whole body was a bundle of nervous energy and adrenalin. She closed her eyes tightly in frustration before spinning around on her heel and snatching up the green notebook on her desk and the pencil that rested next to it. Flopping back distractedly onto her bed Riley flipped to the first page, blowing off the dust she found inside. She had resolved never to use these books again after finding that they were regularly checked for recent installments. These updates were then read by whoever wanted to. Ever since she had given up writing in it, the same book had lain neglected on the left corner of the desk. Sometimes a brave cleaner would move it to the center in hopes she would notice and decide to make use of it again, but this had never motivated her to begin penning her private thoughts onto its pages. Until today. Riley needed a release and only this would volunteer itself in the barren room.

She began writing, she wasn't really sure what, only whatever came to mind at the moment. She was practicing a technique she had been taught a long time ago when she was only first learning to exercise strict control over her emotions. She scribbled furiously along the page and as a small amount of time passed her writing became more erratic and she fell deeper into the trance the rhythmic motion of her hand moving across the page had put her into. It was only the sweeper outside her door performing his regular check on her that distracted her from the feverish scribbling and flung her from the self-induced state of being between consciousness and sleep. Her head snapped up and she blinked owlishly in the bright flashlight beam that he was directing into her eyes. His light disappeared seconds later and Riley stared at the page in her notebook until the multi- colored lights dancing in front of her eyes disappeared, slowly revealing what she had written.

Five pages front and back, had been covered with her untidy scrawl. The first page was seemingly covered in gibberish, the words relating nothing of real importance. Finally the stinted blend began to meld into something which Riley viewed with much more seriousness. Riley stared in shock at her script, her eyes scanning over the same word written over and over again.

_Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate Hate. Hate. Hate .Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate. Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate.Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate._

Riley threw the book away from her with shaking hands, scrambling hurriedly backwards on the bed grimacing at the words her subconscious had written. A crackling sounded through the speaker box set on the wall above her desk and stole her attention from the notebook now lying on the floor.

"The lights are out kid. You should be sleeping." A voice spoke in an androgynous monotone which revealed nothing about its originator. The already dimmed lights in the room were doused entirely and Riley glared up at the device. She reached down to the floor and hesitantly picked up the notebook, as though afraid it would bite her, stashing it beneath her mattress as Mr. Raines threat from earlier that day reverberated around her mind.

_"What if I can't control my anger?" _

_"...You'll suffer my... displeasure."_

His displeasure was the last thing she wanted to deal with at the moment and so she had no plans of leaving the book lying out in the open. She hoped there might be some place to get rid of it permanently before anyone found it and divulged its contents. Riley flopped onto her back as per the voices' bidding, staring at the concrete ceiling above her and forcing her eyes to forget the image of the pages of the notebook. It felt like the word had been carved into her brain with a scalpel and the image of it didn't leave her until she fell into a fitful sleep shortly after.

-

-

Parker turned the black boxer into her driveway, the crunching of gravel meeting her ears and the car giving a small shudder as it was parked. She stepped from the vehicle, rubbing her hands up her arms against the chill in the air. The sun had not yet set on the crisp fall day, but it seemed unable to bring any warmth to the Earth. She had left the Centre early today, hoping to have a long weekend. Though she doubted this would occur, as part of her also hoped to hear of a disturbance at the Centre that included one very annoying rat. She slammed the door of her car hurriedly, thinking of the time she would have to spend finding all of the Centre bugs in her house; she knew that they were regularly replaced each week by a group of technicians, though she had never met them face to face. She always found each and every bug within hours of their placement. No one had yet had the balls to complain about their removal, and were someone to grow a backbone, Parker planned on growling out a retort containing something along the lines of 'Why the hell were they in my house in the first place?' Walking up the front steps however her mind was drawn to observe something else. A small light was moving under the closed blinds of the living room. It trailed along sloppily before disappearing as it moved onto another room in the house. Parker cautiously removed her gun from its purchase in the small of her back, and checked the front door. It was unlocked and Parker grabbed the handle, skillfully turning it and opening the door slowly, trying to discourage the loud creaking the old aperture had a habit of making when moved. Parker walked into the entryway, slipping out of her stilettos, effectively silencing their loud clicking. She approached the room she had last seen the beam of light in and stepped into the doorway, catching the man with his back turned to her, she cocked the 9mm audibly, pointing it directly out in front of her.

"Freeze scumbag or I'll be forced to spend the rest of the day cleaning grey matter off the walls."

The man visibly tensed before her, his flashlight beam freezing on the mirror resting above the mantelpiece. Parker's gaze shifted from the man as her eye caught on a movement behind her, a dark figure standing just over her left shoulder. Her eyes widened in surprise as a wet cloth was placed abruptly over her nose and mouth. Her movements felt sluggish as her mind slowly shut down, her eyes closing as though they had weights attached to them. Then everything was darkness.

_-_

_-_

_Blue eyes. Vibrant. Very bright blue eyes were staring at her, into her in fact, as though searching for something. Riley recognized those eyes, though she couldn't place from where. They were slowly fading, disappearing rapidly like water spilling from cupped hands, and she grasped at the failing images like a drowning person to a life preserver._

Riley sat up on the edge of her bed, the heels of her palms pressed into her eyes, causing the neon afterglow of images to flare behind her retinas. She searched her mind, trying to recall the dream she had woken up with mere seconds ago. It was different from most of her dreams, the color had been startling, and words had been spoken to her by a disembodied voice, which she could only presume was the owner of the eyes. What had it said? It had seemed so important, so very important that she listened and understood. What was it?

"Trust. Something about trust..." Riley wrinkled her nose in confusion and let up on the pressure she was applying to her eyes, giving up. The memory of the dream had slowly disintegrated, leaving her with nothing but a hollow feeling which she couldn't explain. Riley ran her hand through her hair in frustration, causing the tangled brown locks to stick up on end in certain places. Something had been off about that dream. The eyes, the voice, the urgent need, it all seemed familiar, so incredibly familiar, as though she had known them all her life.

Riley looked dispiritedly around the darkened room, hoping for inspiration. Her eyes alighted on a thick psychology text, one which Mr. Raines had given her. It had been placed in her room soon after her arrival in the Centre, a familiar object in a veritable sea of change. The cover was bright blue.

_eyes..._

The word flashed across her mind and soon after Riley had crossed the space in a long stride and snatched up the text, flipping it open to a highlighted section, the corners long worn old with use. She fingered the page, skimming the information, and paused above an innocent looking passage, the content of which was regaling the reader of the virtues of motive. There couldn't be a crime without it.

_motive..._

_"Focus_ Riley. _We know that he committed the crime. We need you to find out why."_

_Mr. Lyle was pacing around her in the SIM lab, back at the facility. Riley was nervous, not scared she told herself forcefully- she wasn't scared, she was nervous. Mr. Raines was watching her pretend from up on a platform above them, she didn't want to get into trouble with him. Riley turned her attentions back to Mr. Lyle and the simulation laid out before her. She worked through the evidence in her mind, going over each step of the murder, the man's testimony, the relations between victim and killer, but no matter how she looked at it, one factor was always missing. Something was wrong. _

_"I-I don't know why he murdered her sir." Riley said timidly, her eyes flickering to Mr. Raines darkened form above her. _

_"Failure isn't an option Riley." Mr. Lyle gave her a stern look and Riley dropped her eyes guiltily to the floor. "You need to find out his reasoning. You aren't trying hard enough." _

_Riley wanted to protest that she was trying. She was trying really really hard, but she knew it would only get her into more trouble. She dutifully began sifting once again through the physical evidence on the table as well as the mental checklist she had been keeping tabs on in her mind. But no matter what she did, she always reached an obstacle. It didn't make sense. _

_"Riley, we are running out of time." Riley looked up at Mr. Lyle. The reproaching look had not lessened at all during the time that she had been working. Riley's spirits withered even further, she didn't like disappointing people, especially not Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines. She gave a final cursory glance at the table._

_"I don't know sir; this whole situation doesn't make sense. There's something missing." Riley told him, trying to keep the distress out of her voice. She just had to make them see that there was nothing she could do. Riley looked up and saw something flash across Mr. Lyle's expression, but it was gone before she could identify what it was. _

_"Riley, tell me what we know about this case." _

_Riley let out a small breath of relief, he was going to help her. She wasn't in trouble. "The murder weapon was found on the defendant's property, but it also belonged to him, so it's only natural that his fingerprints are all over it. The man pleaded innocent in court, but then, if he was guilty he wasn't exactly going to just come out and say it. The jury on his original case found him guilty, as did the jury at his appeal. So we know that he's guilty, we just don't know why he committed the murder..." Riley stopped in her analysis as Mr. Lyle gave her an odd look. _

_"Do we know that Riley? **Do** we know that he's guilty?" _

_"Two different juries voted him-" _

_"Riley, whose judgment do you trust more, that of a group of people whom you've never met before, or your own?" Riley frowned in contemplation of what he was saying. She didn't understand, the information she had been given had told her that he had been the murderer. _

_"The evidence is all there." She pointed out hesitantly. _

_"Yes, but you yourself said that there was something missing. That something was wrong. So what do you think now?" _

_"I think... I don't know what to think." _

_"Yes Riley, you do. It's a simple question. Did he kill her? Yes or No." Mr. Lyle walked in circles around her as he spoke, his expression was hard and Riley had the sudden feeling of a person being interrogated. "I'll ask again. Are you going to accept the verdict of an odd group of people who are most likely just wishing to get back to their lives and their jobs as fast as they possibly can, or are you going to follow your instincts? You have been inside this man's mind... Now, did he ki-" _

_"No." Riley looked guiltily at the floor as she realized she had interrupted him, but Mr. Lyle seemed to pay it no mind as he made a motion towards the sweeper at the door and the lights in the room were raised a level as the regular paraphernalia customary of simulations playing along the projector screens snapped off._

_"Very good Riley." Mr. Lyle said, crouching down so that he was on eye level with her. "Listen and learn. Sometimes the information we are given is wrong and you must keep that in mind while you're pretending. You must remember to trust your instincts, like you did here, there wasn't a motive. And you know as well as I do that for there to be a crime there must be a motive. There has to be a reason."_

-

-

Parker came-to slowly, her head foggy and aching, her muscles sore, and worst of all, no recollection of where she was or why. This wasn't her bed, the material was woolen and scratchy; a far cry from the silken sheets which served as her typical sleeping arrangements. The room was too cold as well, as though it were the inside of a cave rather than the Summer Home. She dazedly opened her eyes to the darkness around her to find a concrete room, no bigger than her closet. Granted, her closet was a very nice walk in, but a closet nonetheless. It was windowless and contained one door, the hinges of which seemed to be located on the side facing out from the cell. She wasn't going to assume it had a handle either. A camera was eyeing her from the opposite corner of the room, and it was the small red light in the corner more than anything that convinced her; she was at the Centre.

-

-

Lyle walked at a brisk gait down the halls of the Centre. Most of Lyle's instincts, if not all of them, were screaming at him to turn around. There was no chance that he could still catch his flight to Maine, though if he left now he still might be able to steal a seat on the red-eye. He quashed his better judgment however and kept his steps in the direction of his intended destination. This would probably be the first unselfish act he was going to enter into in twenty years at least, he thought, musing inwardly to keep his mind off of the suicide mission he was planning. That's what it seemed to him at least; suicide. Every impulse inside was clambering for him to save his own butt, and not to worry about anyone else's.

It wasn't really unselfish though, was it? He had to admit that. He wasn't coming back just for her. His life was here; his life had been many places before of course, but the Centre was the one place that could raise him up. And he couldn't just give up Riley-- she was an important asset. He'd no sooner give her up than he would a million dollars. She was his ticket to the top. She always had been. And with Raines as her only influence, she might very well be used against him-- Lyle couldn't allow for that. He appeased his uneasy sense of survival with these few facts and hoped his thumb would stop aching. Some people had butterflies or sweaty palms; Lyle had ghost appendages. Karma really was a bitch.

Lyle turned the corner that would lead him to Raines' office and nearly bumped into the _good doctor_ himself. Raines looked less than pleased to see him.

-

-

Riley inched along the cold steel conduits, creeping slowly to avoid detection. She followed the emotional signals that Angelo had left behind, as distinct as a marked trail. It was as though she could feel the man's presence, she could even tell which gratings in the vents he visited most often. As though she could see a pathway directing her where to go. Riley didn't need blueprints when she had that. She almost had the presence of mind to go back, to just leave things alone, but she knew that she would always wonder if she didn't find out now.

Something was wrong. Riley wasn't sure what it was, though she knew it was there. Thinking it over, Riley wondered why she hadn't come to this conclusion earlier. It always came down to the same question; "Why would Jarod kill Mr. Lyle?" Mr. Raines hadn't given her very much information about what had occurred, hardly more than that it had happened, but Riley had read Jarod's file. She had read it so many times that she could recite it word for word. While Jarod cited grievances against the Centre, he had never gone so far as to harm the people in it. Unless they had left that out of his file of course...

Jarod wasn't a man who killed; he much preferred using his genius to provoke others into making their own mistakes. Jarod wouldn't have a reason to kill, even if he did, he probably wouldn't. There were too many better ways to get rid of Mr. Lyle than by murdering him. Jarod had already enacted several. It had of course been left from the file she had received, probably so that her mentor could save face, maybe so that she wouldn't get any ideas, possibly both, but Riley had heard a large enough collection of tales from Dr. Sydney to know that Jarod had a very healthy sense of humor when it came to Centre employees. Shipping Mr. Lyle and Miss Parker to the Centre with nothing but stagnant water and a bag of barbecued grasshoppers for instance. Blowing up Mr. Lyle's car and mailing him the license plate for another. Something terrible had to have happened to make Jarod kill Mr. Lyle, and Riley desperately needed to know what. She had to know what had caused Jarod to kill him; the questions would eat her from the inside out if she didn't find out. The whole matter didn't make sense. Something was missing, they weren't telling her everything, and with this thought in mind, Riley crawled further.

-

-

Inside her cell, Miss Parker was raging. Odd that the woman most known for being ice personified now looked as though she could spit fire. The programmers in the tech room had a betting pool, laying stakes on how long it would take her to break down the door. Most of the money was on less than an hour. Another pool was currently being established as to how long it would take for her to kill the guards. The technicians were now clambering to lay their bets in that. It was to this chaotic scene that Broots opened up the door of the tech room. Covering his ears as he walked in and desperately trying not to spill his hot coffee, the bumbling tech made his way to the center of the throng.

"What the- What's going on?" Broots tried to make himself heard over the crowd, but couldn't manage to make his voice cooperate through his confusion.

"Broots!" Two programmers seemed to have heard him though, as they immediately rushed over, announcing his arrival enthusiastically.

"Broots here you are! Been looking all over for you! We figured you'd know best as you've spent the most time with her. I wanted to know your professional opinion, how long do you think it'll take before those guys' entrails are arranged on the _outside_ of their bodies?"

Broots blinked at the young man speaking to him in confusion, pausing to wonder how best he could inquire as to what the hell he was talking about. In the end he settled on those very words.

"Didn't you know?" The man asked in a bewildered tone, pushing some people in front of him aside to make room for Broots. "Have a look." There, on screen, was Miss Parker, looking as though the first person to step into her room would be missing a few vital body parts when they left.

A short while later Broots walked into Sydney's office looking as though he wasn't sure if the world was still round or not.

"Something wrong Broots?" Broots seemed surprised to realize where he had gone, his head popping up comically from where he had been looking at the floor.

"O-Oh Hey Syd. You wouldn't by any chance know where Miss Parker keeps the key to her liquor cabinet would you?"

"Broots, is something wrong?" Sydney asked a little concerned over his strange behavior.

"Well," Broots began, sitting down at a chair in front of Sydney's desk, still staring blankly at his shoes as he gathered his thoughts. "You've got to promise not to tell anyone you heard it from me... this is all pretty hush-hush..." He continued, seeming to come partially out of his former daze. He gave a wry grin, "so, naturally... everyone knows."

-

-

The glow of a monitor lit the room as Raines watched the surveillance footage of Miss Parker from his office. He picked up the receiver of his phone from the cradle as he punched in a number, his eyes still regarding the screen. Jarod was sorely mistaken if he thought that only Miss Parker knew the number for his cell. Raines had come across this small, but valuable, bit of information in a secret search of her house, and it had proved to be quite useful on more than one occasion. Cell phones produced a signal whenever they were activated, acting as a perfect tracking device. Jarod was rarely absent minded enough to leave his on for longer than ten minutes at a time, but on those few occasions that he had, the Centre had easily gotten wind of his exact whereabouts. They had managed to surprise him a few times with this knowledge already, though, despite their best efforts, he always got away. Jarod never managed to link these incidences with his phone. A ringing could be heard through the receiver as the phones connected, and then the fuzzy sound of the receiver being held up to a person's ear.

"Hello?" A prolonged pause. "Who is this?"

The voice sounded mildly startled, and more than a little hesitant, as though he didn't get very many calls on this phone. Raines sneered inwardly; he probably hadn't given the number out to anyone aside from Miss Parker. How truly touching.

"Hello Jarod." Raines could hear the man on the other end of the line swear loudly. Surprise, surprise Jarod. "You know you might wish to rid yourself of that habit quickly Jarod. That sort of language won't be tolerated once you're back home." Raines said conversationally, a menacing undercurrent flowing beneath his words.

"And what makes you think you'll bring me in so soon?" Jarod sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth. On the other end of the line Jarod could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. Somehow Raines had managed to get his cell phone number and it was a sure bet that this wasn't a social call. It felt as though static had filled his ears, what could be going on at the Centre that he hadn't picked up on?

"Oh I'm not going to bring you in Jarod." the smug satisfaction in his voice was clear through the phone line.

"No?" Jarod's anxiety rose at Raines' nonchalant tone.

"No... You are going to do that for me." Raines said, imagining the look on Jarod's face as he listened.

"I am?" Jarod asked skeptically, Raines was making a fool out of himself if he didn't have some sort of back up plan. Then again, Raines was hardly the type to enter into something if he thought it wouldn't work... what was going on back there?

Raines paused before speaking again, choosing his words carefully. "Yes Jarod, You are..."

"And how do you propose to make me do that?" Jarod asked, apprehension setting in though he managed to keep it out of his voice.

Raines didn't offer an answer, instead posing a question towards the wayward pretender. "Would you say you underestimate the lengths the Triumvirate will go to in order to bring you back home Jarod?" He asked quietly, the sound of his ever-heavy breathing filling the line. "The Triumvirate isn't pleased with Miss Parker's performance in bringing you in... it would be horrible if she were to have an 'accident'." Raines trailed off, letting Jarod fill in the blanks.

"What the hell have you done with her?" Jarod ground out on the other end of the line.

"I don't know what we'd do without her..." He continued, "But then, she could be perfectly safe and sound in her own home... it all depends on you Jarod..." The other end of the line was silent and Raines decided to press on, giving him less time to think about it. "And Jarod, in case you're thinking this is a ruse, go ahead and listen for yourself." He said, turning up the volume on the surveillance monitor and holding the phone out to the speaker.

Parker was stalking around the edges of the room like an angry tiger, "Raines you bastard! When I get out of here I'm going to string you up by your intestines and use the rest of you as _lawn mulch_!"

Raines brought the phone back to his own ear, "It's up to you Jarod, if you aren't here within the next twelve hours, unarmed and willing to work with us, well... I'm sure you can imagine what would happen... and Jarod, remember this- it would be all your fault." Raines hung up on that note, knowing that having that sort of guilt on his chest would drive Jarod insane. Oh yes, their pretender would be back soon.

-

-

Will stepped into the house, opening and closing the screen door quietly and slipping out of his muddy football cleats, kicking each of them off with his opposite foot. His blue and white jersey was covered in grass stains and he held his helmet under his arm at his side. Practice had been horrendous today; the coach had finally earned himself the misnomer of "Comrade Stalin", a nickname suggested by Will that everyone had found very funny, even more so in light of the fact that no one thought the coach was bright enough to get the pun. Westlake high wasn't a bad school, and Will was going there for his desperate need for social interaction more than anything. He'd tried looking at colleges first, but when Yale sent him a written reply saying 'We appreciate your enthusiasm, but please contact us again when you have facial hair' he'd decided to go for something a little more low-key. It was either that or search for fake beards. He mulled over the upcoming winter formal as he padded in his socks over to the kitchen, racking his brain for a good way to get a date. No ideas forthcoming he gave up, procrastinating for yet another day as a voice in the back of his head told him the dance was only a week away.

He paused outside the door of the kitchen as he heard the hushed voices of Jarod and his father. He peered around the edge of the doorframe; the two men were sitting at the table whispering in serious tones. Jarod ran his hands through his hair; looking frustrated and his father's tense posture spoke volumes of his anxiety. Will watched for a few more minutes, his legs cramping up in his crouched position, and his ears straining to pick up anything from their conversation. Jarod's cell phone sat on the table between them along with two mugs of coffee, which remained untouched. Will crouched further out of sight as Jarod stood up suddenly from the table, his voice finally reaching a regular level. He took up his jacket from the back of a chair and slid his arms into the sleeves in a hurried manner, straightening out the collar as he began heading for the door with purposeful strides.

"I'm going to get her Dad."

"Jarod you should think about this... it could be a trap." Will watched as his father got up and began walking after Jarod, obviously trying to persuade him out of a much-argued point. "I won't allow you to go into the Centre without a plan."

Will very nearly jumped out of his hiding place at this point. He had known that Jarod would be making an infiltration into the Centre soon, but he had at least expected to be informed of when, he realized now that Jarod had obviously just intended to leave without saying goodbye. And what was this bit about not having a plan?

"We already know it's a trap Dad. My freedom in exchange for hers."

"You aren't planning on doing what he says, are you?" Major Charles asked with a look of anxiety on his face.

"What do you expect Dad? I don't have much of a choice here. Don't worry, if he can play outside the rules, so can I..." Jarod said, sounding stressed. "Look, I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing, I'll think of something."

"And what if something goes wrong Jarod? You need to think this through." Will watched as his Dad persisted, personally agreeing with him. There was no chance that Jarod would ever come out of the Centre unscathed if he didn't go in anticipating the worst.

"I don't have time for a plan. Dad, I know the Centre better than the man who designed it! I've been coming and going out of that place ever since I escaped. They've never managed to catch me before... they won't now." Jarod said, trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince The Major.

"I already need to get Riley out of there, and now they have Parker too! I won't allow Raines to harm her."

_Miss Parker? _At this statement Will really did leave his hiding place. "I'm going with you." Miss Parker was the only person at The Centre that had ever shown Will any kindness, and he couldn't bear the thought of her being a prisoner there now.

His father gaped in surprise at his sudden appearance. "Will? Where did you come from?"

Jarod turned around, a look of annoyance on his face. "Oh, no you aren't."

"Who are you to dictate where I go? I want to help." Will persisted, following Jarod as he headed out the front door and down the wooden porch steps.

"No! That's final." Jarod said, meaning to end the argument, but Will persisted.

"Jarod, you said so yourself, Raines has her. He's got Miss Parker."

"Exactly, and I won't have him get his hands on you."

"No, you'll just get yourself captured with no one to bail you out! I dealt with Raines for fifteen years! How often did you see him?"

"I don't want you being manhandled by him for another fifteen!"

"But I can help!" Will tried to reason with Jarod.

"I won't need your help!" Jarod said and it was clear that the discussion was closed.

Will had gotten fed up by this point, and he could tell that Jarod had also, and he acted on the first idea that came to mind. He tackled him with all the strength he could muster. Straddling him across his chest, "I'm going." He said simply. "I'm not a child, quit treating me like one."

Jarod pushed himself off the ground despite Will's position on his torso, causing him to topple to the hard earth. "You aren't coming." He said, getting into his car and revving the engine. "I don't care if you don't think you're a child Will, you are whether you like it or not. _Savor the experience_."

"Savor the experience?" Will repeated incredulously, "I get treated like an adult by them my entire life and the one time that I want to be one you act as though I'm a good for nothing five year old! Let me come."

"No." Jarod slammed the door forcefully and sped from the driveway, leaving a frustrated Will watching the car disappear from view.

Will pushed himself off his butt and stared disbelievingly after the trail of kicked up dust in the road. "You Stupid! Annoying! Egotistical! Stubborn! Mule! You're gonna get yourself killed!" he shouted to the empty air.

-

-

Riley paused before a vent, blowing off years of dust and swiping at the grit with her fingers so she could see. She rubbed at the dirt stinging her eyes and tried to dispel a threatening need to sneeze. Peering cautiously through the now clear grate she began working on the opening, fumbling with the catches on the corners. A small noise of an unlocking door alerted her to the danger of going into the room and she hurriedly stumbled through the process of getting the vent reattached, suddenly relieved that she had only managed to get the bottom two clasps open. She managed to close the vent just in time as the door was opened and she crawled into a more comfortable position to watch from. Two figures walked into the darkened office, one whom she could identify as Mr. Raines, his ever present oxygen tank giving him away easily. The other person she couldn't recognize however, as he didn't seem to have any insignia to give him away. Both men were shadows in the room until Mr. Raines reached for a light switch, disappearing momentarily from her view, as the grating of the vent didn't allow her to see into the corners of the room. The lights came on in the office and suddenly Riley could recognize easily the light brown hair and coolly confident manner of the one man she never expected to see again. That man was indisputably Mr. Lyle, and he was very much alive. Riley very nearly burst through the vent cover then, though she stopped herself at the very last moment. Her heart was beating out an erratic tattoo in her chest and she swore that the two men would hear it at any moment. She shuffled closer to the grate, afraid to miss a single moment. Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines were arguing, something which she could never remember them doing before, at least, not in front of her. She realized now that there were probably a lot of things that they had kept from her.

"You are supposed to be in Maine..." Mr. Raines was saying. Riley's brows furrowed in confusion at that, Maine? Why would he be in Maine? Why hadn't he been _here_ in the first place? She wondered to herself, agonizing in the thought that Mr. Lyle had chosen to leave after all. His 'death' was just an excuse.

"Change of plans. I demand to be placed back on the project." Mr. Lyle said, his tone more serious than she could recall in recent memory. The easy confidence and casual air missing in his demeanor made his words feel wrong, as though he wasn't the man speaking them.

"You are in a precarious position to be demanding anything." Mr. Raines reminded him. "I knew there was too much emotional attachment between you two..." He said, taking a step forward, and Riley felt an odd pride in knowing that Mr. Lyle did not move back. "If I didn't know any better... Bobby... I'd say you were going soft." Riley could feel Mr. Lyle's anger escalate slightly at that remark, though he did a good job of hiding it. "I daresay I don't need to remind you what happened to the last person to become too involved in this project... I doubt you'd forget that. It would be a shame to have to take such measures again." Mr. Raines ground out, opening the door to the office in a gesture that said in no uncertain terms 'get out.' Mr. Lyle walked through the portal without further comment, looking as though it were costing him all of his strength not to do something he'd end up regretting. Riley crawled back to her space after that, not really thinking about where she was headed. A spark of rage grew inside of her as she moved along, indignity that they hadn't told her. She had been led to believe that this entire time Mr. Lyle had been dead. Mr. Raines had lied to her about the only thing that had ever mattered! Riley slipped out of the grate to her room quietly, agitatedly beginning to pace around once more. She had to keep control- she had to. She had been betrayed, again. The pain of that betrayal was fierce, and it grew inside her chest, like an iron hand squeezing her heart. Her throat was tight and constricted, she felt like she couldn't even breathe now. Riley closed her eyes, hearing Mr. Raines words from that afternoon.

_Take the pain and turn it into something you can use._

She was loath to do anything he had directed her to at the moment out of pure spite, but an unreasonable fear of not following his orders won out. If she did nothing Riley knew that she would end up crying, an action which she would not allow of herself.

_Turn your pain into anger Riley_.

-

-

"She's just gone berserk sir. We didn't know what to do." The sweeper explained as Mr. Raines squeaked along down the sublevel corridor. The sounds of a commotion could be heard as they approached and words soon became recognizable, interspersed with various shouts from sweepers and the occasional dismantling of furniture.

"I want to see Mr. Lyle!... Get off... I want to see him! You can't just keep him from me! I know he's here! ... Let me go!... I'm not just going to sit by this time! I won't! ...I want to see Mr. Lyle!..."

Raines quickened his pace as much as his lungs would allow and strode quickly to the cell from which the noise was emanating. He checked himself at the door and feasted his eyes on the wreckage within. Riley's desk chair lay at an awkward angle on the floor, one of the legs broken off. The steel door was peppered with several small dents and the security camera in the corner of the room was shattered. In the center of it all were several black suited men trying desperately to mollify the rampaging teenager in their midst. She was swinging the broken chair leg like a bat.

Two sweepers were caught in a futile attempt to pin the girl to the ground and Willie stood some safe distance away, trying to pacify her; Gar was trying to get a free shot at her hands with a pair of handcuffs, but was rewarded for his efforts as she kicked him in the groin. The man doubled over in pain and viciously tried to retaliate, but Riley saw the blow coming and managed to squirm away from the sweeper latched onto her arm. She ducked quickly, his fist catching the air mere centimeters from her head. Of course, she had good practice at anticipating blows.

No one seemed to notice Raines' presence at the door, busy as they all were, which gave him ample time to assess the situation. Raines had always known that were Riley to have a fit such as this one, sweepers would have a rough time trying to get her under control. It seemed strange that such a small girl could best three men many times her size, but Raines felt he really should not be surprised by that after all. Riley had been honed over the years into a killing machine, and with the extra rage given to her only recently she could easily become an unstoppable force. Riley had been stubborn from childhood, and no amount of physical repercussion could force the habit out of her. Eventually Raines had submitted and chosen to modify this character flaw into something they could use rather than eradicate it completely. He realized now that it was a mistake on his part, for that stubbornness was showing itself here in her refusal to submit.

The sweepers were not actually helping matters. The room was so small, they were only getting in each other's ways-- a fact Riley tactically was using against them. She swung the chair leg at one of the men, hitting him full in the chest, toppling him over onto Gar. Willie seemed to be the person in charge as he shouted in response to the latest attack in the room, directing his inferior "Get out Gar! You're only making this worse!" He turned again to the girl, who was struggling in the grasp of a sweeper who had finally managed to detain her for longer than five seconds, attempting to get her to stop fighting with them.

"Riley calm down! Stop struggling dammit! You're only getting yourself into trou-" He was cut off however as Riley, using her capture by one of the guards to her advantage, lifted both feet from the floor and delivered a punishing double-footed kick to his chest. Raines decided to interfere at this point and stepped into the room and directly into Riley's field of vision. The girl froze, her chest heaving, and ceased struggling with the gigantic man behind her, who had finally managed to pin her arms behind her. Fury clashed with terror in her eyes as she glared at him. Her gaze dropped however after a few intense moments, and she resignedly went limp in the arms of the sweeper. Raines paused, taking a few slow steps closer to his charge, and after a few painfully tense minutes, he directed the sweeper to release her. Raines ordered the guards to leave with a sweep of his hand and looked the pretender over with a scrutinizing gaze. No harsh words were spoken, no punishing blows given out; Raines merely looked the girl over and turned on his heel, stopping next to the sweeper outside the door.

"I want her taken to the renewal wing."

Riley's head shot up in horror as she was pushed into the custody of a waiting sweeper, who began to direct her down the hall, his hand encircling the back of her neck. Mr. Raines following like a squeaky shadow just behind her left elbow. It seemed like a thousand steps later that they reached the renewal wing. The sterile smell of disinfectant causing her nose and eyes to itch. They reached the outside of the door and the sweeper began plugging in the code, somehow managing to keep a firm grip on her upper arm and still not allowing her to see the combination to the room. Riley shot a hate filled glare in Mr. Raines direction as she waited for the door to open.

"I won't lose my memories again." Riley told him quietly in a pseudo-calm voice. "I won't let you take them."

Raines wheeled over to her slowly, his every gesture screaming of control. "You say that as though you have a choice in the matter."

"You said yourself that I should always have control of a situation." She said calmly, throwing his words back in his face.

"I think that you need to be reminded of your place... in the scheme of things around here Riley." He spoke in a low hiss, subtle, angry, undertones present in his words. "I am in charge... I can do whatever I want... whenever I want... and to whomever I want... And there is nothing that you will ever do about that. You are under my control Riley... you always will be. And should you ever do anything like this again... you will find that there are far worse places to be sent than the renewal wing. Places that make this seem like the very epitome of warm and welcoming. There will be changes made around here... and if you wish to keep living the pampered lifestyle which you currently take for granted... this attitude of yours will be one of the first. I will not tolerate disrespect from you Riley. Not towards the Centre, not towards employees, and most certainly not towards myself...You are the property of the Centre, here to serve- Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

The question didn't seem to require a response to Riley, as it really left no room for interpretation. But Mr. Raines didn't seem to see it that way as he slapped her roughly across the face, demanding an answer.

"Yessir." Riley mumbled, the words leaving a foul taste in her mouth, more pungent than the blood spilling in from her split lip.

"What?" Raines asked menacingly.

"I said, Yes Sir." She answered, her tone bordering on mocking.

"No then, if you had understood we wouldn't still be having this discussion. I've warned you, if that attitude you've acquired doesn't change fast... there _will_ be consequences." He left the idea of what those consequences would be up to her vivid imagination and turned his attention back to the sweeper. "Take her away..." The sweeper nodded once in assent and Riley found herself being dragged at a fast clip by her upper arm into what had always held the position in her mind as a quite personal hell.

-

-

Jarod clicked off the flashlight in his hand and unlatched the vent cover, working to remove it noiselessly. He brought it back into the steel conduit next to him and set it down gently to stop it from clattering. He hoisted himself through the hole in the ceiling and dropped quietly to the floor.

"Took you long enough to get here." Miss Parker spoke in an annoyed tone from behind him.

Jarod had expected to find her in this room, but he nearly jumped out of his skin at being addressed so suddenly despite this, his nerves ready to snap he was so tense. Jarod only appeared as the coolly confident persona he always was though, creeping over to the barred off section of the room that contained the woman he had come searching for.

"Excuse the lateness Ma'am, this rescue will come free of charge and here's a coupon for the next time you use this service." He whispered jokingly as he began picking the lock on the metal-barred door. The room seemed to be divided in half, part of it sanctioned off into a cell with all the normal amenities and the other a blank observation area with a chair shoved into the corner. The vent he had dropped through was the only one in the room and it was located outside the barred off area. The door leading out into the corridor was directly opposite the cell door, and had a horizontal slit running its width like the one from his childhood bedroom. Jarod's nerves peaked as he hoped no one would look through the door too soon. He felt the first tumbler slip into place in the lock and began to work on the second. One by one the pins in the lock lined up and he allowed himself a small grin as the lock clicked.

Jarod squinted his eyes closed as the lights in the room flared up, blinding him momentarily. He heard the door behind him open and tried to turn around to face whoever had entered but was set upon before he could even gain his footing. Pain exploded behind his eyes as he was picked up bodily and rammed into the bars of the cell. He lost his footing dizzily and clung onto the vertical rods with one hand, trying to remain standing. Jarod pistoned his other arm back and elbowed the man holding him in the face. He collapsed slightly as the sweeper let go of him, deprived of the man's support, but another soon took his place. His shoulder wrenched painfully as Jarod's arm was pulled behind him. The sweeper pinned him to the ground as another man forced a constricting black hood over his head, pulling the knot closed tightly around his throat so that it pushed against his airways. Jarod growled in frustration as he felt his hands cuffed behind him, the restraints so tight that they cut into his wrists. He squirmed against the hands holding him down, rolling onto his back and kicking out blindly, he felt his foot glance off a man's shoulder and the sweeper topple backwards. Hands grabbed his arms, yanking painfully on his bound wrists, and propelled him forwards. Jarod flinched as he prepared for contact with what he was sure was a wall, but instead he was pushed into a different space. The cell door swung shut with a creaking sound and the sweepers quite literally lifted him from the floor and threw him onto a raised platform. Jarod struggled madly as hands stifled his efforts and pinned him on his back atop what felt like a camping bed. His arms were twisted painfully as the handcuffs themselves were chained to the metal frame of the cot. Someone pushed on his chest, forcing him further down into the thin mattress and Jarod's back arched as his fists dug into his spine. He felt fetters placed around his ankles and redoubled his grappling against them as his feet were restrained to the end of the bunk. Finally the hands released him and he heard the door of the cell squeak open and then closed, the keys grating in the lock in a hauntingly familiar manner.

-

-

Parker watched from behind the bars of the cell as Jarod picked the lock. Silently urging him to go faster. In her searching of the room she had found more cameras than the simple one in the corner of the ceiling. And while this one seemed to be connected to the main system, the others weren't. When she had seen the main camera's indicator light flicker off and on she had checked the others. None of them seemed to be affected. Jarod thought that he had turned the cameras off but he hadn't... Not all of them... Parker knew better than to distract him by saying so though, his reaction wouldn't be a good one and would probably waste even more precious time.

Parker shielded her eyes with her hand as the florescent lights in the ceiling activated suddenly. Temporarily blinding both inhabitants in the room. She heard the sounds of a struggle before she could see it. Sweepers had swarmed the room, attacking Jarod without warning. An all-out brawl ensued on the other side of the bars, the guards trying desperately to subdue the pretender among them, who happened to be fighting back as though it were the last thing he would ever do.

A sweeper opened the door of the cell, seeming a little flustered when he put the key in the lock and it turned out Jarod had already managed to unlock it... guess that wasn't part of the plan. He pulled open the door and ushered Parker out of the cell as several others dragged a kicking Jarod in. Parker went willingly, knowing that if she were to remain in a position where she could help him, she would need to refrain from voicing her protests. The sweeper escorted her out the door, but went back inside without making sure that she had truly left. Where had training gone to these days? She wondered idly. She waited as she saw Raines wheeling his emphazemic ass up the corridor towards her and the room containing Jarod, a look of absolute smugness plastered on his face. Parker stepped away from the wall, moving into his path.

"You used me as bait..." She said by way of starting a conversation, keeping her tone non-accusatory, though the words spoke for themselves.

"I don't care if you don't like the idea... it worked... unlike some other plans..."

Parker ignored the sleight on her skills as a huntress. "Actually, I think it was rather ingenious..." She said. Amusing herself while watching Raines' face register surprise that she seemed to agree with him. "It can't have been your idea." And the surprised look was gone, replaced by a trace of annoyance. "In fact," Parker continued, "I'd just love to go have a talk with the little enigma that thought this one up about how we do things around here... you wouldn't know where I could find her would you?"

Raines remained silent and Parker decided to give him one last parting shot as she turned and walked down the hall. "You know, if Jarod doesn't deck you in there he's a got a lot more restraint than I do." Parker stopped and looked over her shoulder once she reached the end of the hallway, watching Raines as he stepped into the room.

A sweeper walked up to her, handing her back her suit jacket, which had been missing upon her arrival in the room. She snatched it from his grasp and swung it around her shoulders, digging into her pockets in search of a cigarette. She stuck one between her lips upon finding it and lit up, taking a slow drag to calm her nerves. She blew the smoke out, holding the smoldering cancer stick between two fingers.

"This day has gone to hell in a handbag..."

-

-

Jarod's chest heaved up and down as moisture collected around his mouth and nose and the cloth hood was drawn into his face with each breath. Fear gnawed at his mind as long felt terror and old memories reawakened inside him. His mind raced for escape routes as panic set in. He couldn't breathe; the hood was smothering him, so tight around his throat that he couldn't draw in enough air to support himself.

A clicking footstep echoed around the room and Jarod started in his bonds, he had thought that they had all left. Jarod strained his ears as he tried to follow the sound of the footfalls as they walked closer to him. Another audible click sounded and Jarod could visualize the gun the person was cocking in their hand as they stopped to stand over him on the bed. Jarod set his jaw in anticipation as the barrel of the gun was placed against his knee by the unknown figure. He waited for the person to pull the trigger, growing more and more tense as time passed. He nearly shot out of his skin when the person spoke to him.

"Calm down Jarod... You're going to give yourself a heart attack..." Jarod seemed to try to meld with the bed as he recognized the man speaking to him. "Going into cardiac arrest won't help you to escape... You won't be taken to the infirmary... You aren't going to be leaving this room for quite some time actually... Not until we straighten a few things out with you..."

This didn't bode well with Jarod at all, and he hardly felt any better knowing that he was strapped down in the bondage of the man he readily admitted to be the scariest thing he could think of.

"I'm surprised Jarod, I gave you twelve hours to get back here, and yet you turned up in seven... I would have expected you to savor your last moments of freedom... But I suppose you're smart enough to realize there is no point in delaying the inevitable... Well, you may have gotten here early, but you seem to be disregarding entirely the other part of our deal..." Raines spoke, his voice sending slow chills up and down Jarod's spine. "This room has two locked doors, a sweeper on the inside and the outside, motion detectors in the vents, a fingerprint access panel outside, along with enough cameras to keep every Peeping Tom in the county happy for years. We knew everything you did the instant you arrived to 'rescue' the dear Miss Parker."

Jarod started at the mention of Parker, thinking of the part she had played in this twisted game. Raines seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Ah yes Jarod, Miss Parker. I'd hate for you to delude yourself with the idea that she was a victim in all of this. Actually, she approved of the plan... what was the word she called it...? Ah yes, she seemed to think it was 'ingenious'... It seems that you certainly find out who your real friends are Jarod, don't you."

Jarod's heart sank slowly with the weight of this knowledge. How could he have possibly been so stupid! Raines had given him the perfect bait and sat and waited for him to knock over the twig-in-the-box and ensnare himself. It was entirely his fault that he was in this mess. He had underestimated Raines once again... had underestimated Parker as well. But he couldn't have! She wouldn't _do _that to him! He felt fingers untie the knot around his throat; and a hand grabbed the top of the hood and yanked it off, tugging roughly at his hair. Raines stood above him, looking down on his captive with sickening satisfaction.

"There will be no Sydney, no Miss Parker; every move you make will be scrutinized... I expect obedience out of you Jarod, and whether you think it's beneath you or morally wrong you will show respect to the people around here... And if you fail in that endeavor, there will be consequences." He dug the barrel of the gun further down into Jarod's knee, "I'm sure you can supply for yourself what those consequences will be... You can save yourself a great amount of pain and anguish if you simply agree to cooperate with me right now..."

Jarod glared up at him, producing as much defiance in his face as he could muster. "Go to hell you conniving bastard, I'll never-"

"-You know I would hate to have to force this on you again Jarod..." Raines interrupted him, holding up the black hood in his hand. Jarod tried to keep all emotion out of his face at the threat, but his skin paled slightly despite his best efforts. Raines gave the smallest glimmer of a smile as he noticed Jarod's reaction. "Yes Jarod, that's right, you have weaknesses. We instilled them in you Jarod, I'm certain we can exploit them...No man is unbreakable, and you will never escape... Don't bother thinking about it; the hope will drive you insane..." Raines turned on his heel and exited the cell. A sweeper took up position of inside guard as Raines left, sitting down in the chair Jarod had spotted earlier. Jarod's mind took an evil little twist back to Will's face as Jarod drove off.

_"You're gonna get yourself killed!"_

-

-

Renewal. The mere word sent shivers down her spine, the palms of her hands becoming moist. Renewal- it was a place she had been taught to fear all her life; the ultimate punishment. The Centre was the only place within the entire company where you would find a renewal wing. Every pretender that had ever walked the halls of the Triumvirate headquarters or elsewhere within the system knew about the place, its reputation preceding it across continents. And here she was, for the second time in her life having the dubious privilege of visiting it. Of course, the people running the various stations of the Triumvirate across the globe didn't really need a whole wing dedicated to renewal. The process could virtually be done anywhere, but she supposed that having an entire ward had benefits; undergoing the process within the confines of a regular room was not the same as having it done in the dreaded renewal wing.

Renewal wasn't just a place, it was a process. Rumors of what happened here were notorious, the incredible tales even pervading the corridors of the sublevels; a muttered conversation between sweepers, hurried glances, nerves on edge. The rumors weren't far off, though the process still remained a mystery. Except to Riley.

The rumors said that They could wipe your memory, They drugged you with chemicals designed to alter your mind, They could see your thoughts. It wasn't a chemical. A chemical would be too easy. By the time your stay in the renewal wing was over, you didn't want to remember. It was as though They had created a repressed memory. Trying to remember brought back ghostly images of the renewal wing, so you squeezed your eyes shut tight and prayed for the visions to go away. You didn't try to remember again. Riley supposed the memory never really left, not even the Centre was advanced enough to steal another person's thoughts, but the recollection was blocked, your mind unknowingly barred you from your thoughts as a way of protecting you. Consider it typical that the Centre would use a defense mechanism to break through a person's defenses.

Renewal was a program, specially designed to feed off of your darkest fears, your deepest desires. They broke you down, and then They built you back up in the image They wanted you to be. The scientists meticulously planned each individual procedure, taking pride in how far over they edge they could make people go. No plan was ever the same between any two people but the goal was always loyalty, the first step a breakdown, the second- indoctrination. And Riley's stay here was only just beginning.

Isolation. They took away all stimulation. There wasn't light, sound, smell, touch, and no human contact whatsoever. The worst part of it though- there wasn't a passage of time. A day here felt like a week. _Isolation_, the first step of her personal program. Riley had been in isolation before, the cells were cramped so tightly that you couldn't stand up or lie down, she was forced to sit in a ball, her knees to her chest and her back to the wall. And Riley was small for her age. The trick was to close your eyes; the darkness wasn't absolute that way. Your eyes were closed; for all you knew there could be light on the other side of your eyelids. The walls weren't moving in and the darkness wasn't absolute. Remember that.

Of course, the staff of the renewal wing could never do anything by halves. Simply placing her in isolation for an indeterminable amount of time to soften her up wasn't nearly enough. Riley had spent most of her spare time trying to forget about her last trip to the Renewal wing, and here they were filtering the sound into the room. She figured there must be a speaker above her on the wall or the ceiling, and had occupied herself for some time by trying to yank the wire out of the box, but she soon found this impossible, as the audio device was set into the wall. The sounds were blaring, grating on her ears painfully. Riley relished this physical pain however, finding it much less tortuous than the psychological invasion it brought along. She clenched her fists at her sides so hard that she could feel her nails digging into the skin of her palms- anything to take her mind off of the sounds going on in her small space, but there was just no way to fortify her mind against the invading noise.

_"Please! Let me out of here! Please I'm scared! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't do it again! I promise! Please, just let me out of here, please! I'm sorry!"_

The high pitched cries were accompanied by small thuds- she had been banging on the door with her fists. The pleading petered out after a while, though the noise the recording made now seemed to her to be far worse. An animalistic sound was being emitted, rising from deep inside her chest; the sobbing of a four year old girl.

The weakest link in a pretenders mind must be the power of suggestibility she thought, the instant someone began telling her about a place, she would find herself there, the sights, the smells, the sounds, no detail was left out. So by no fault of her own she could already feel herself slipping into the skin of that girl from another time and another world, far away from her own thoughts and yet so very close.

_"Somebody help me! Please! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again! Please!" I didn't mean to be bad... I didn't... I'm sorry...I wasn't thinking... I was just...I missed Sarah..._

Riley struggled to detach her mind from the SIM. Part of her had naively thought that she had forgotten the misery behind these thoughts and left them behind her, but they made their presence known again now as they spun around her head, floating through the dark corners of her mind. The pain sliced through her, cutting deep into her soul. The continued sounds from the player pushed against her conscious and she stumbled back into the mindset of a child that couldn't understand why these things were happening to her.

_I miss her... she gone...she's gone because of Them_.

Some part of Riley's mind still conscious to where she really was noticed now that the feelings of sorrow were slowly being replaced with anger as she thought about Sarah. Whatever feelings of regret for running away she had had were now only turning into regret for being caught.

**_They stole her...they killed her!_**_ She could see it happening again in her minds eye, the towering figures with blank expressions that were oblivious to her pain._

"NOOOOO!" Riley sprang from the pretend abruptly, standing up and instantly regretting it as she hit her head on the low ceiling. Her eyes snapped open and she had to remind herself to breathe as she took in the darkness pressing in on her, her hands frantically testing the perimeter of her confinement. Her hands met with rough stone walls, so close in on her that it was impossible to spread her arms by more than two feet. Her breathing came in shallow gasps, her mind fighting against images that she could only remember from her dreams. Dark figures, blood everywhere, Mr. Raines... and... and Mr. Lyle. Sarah... with a bullet in her forehead, They had killed her.

"No. No, they said... they said she was moved to a different project. Breathe Riley, she isn't dead. She isn't dead!" Riley tried to reason with herself. But her every instinct was fighting against her. The dreams, she had had them for as long as she could remember. Mr. Lyle wouldn't do something like that! ...Would he? "Breathe, just relax. It isn't true. It can't be true. I'd remember something like that. That isn't _real_! Mr. Raines wouldn't lie to me about something like that... he wouldn't... He said I could trust him... I can trust the Centre... Mr. Raines wouldn't lie about something like that..."

_He lied about Mr. Lyle_

Riley collapsed against the wall of the cell, pounding her fists into the cinderblock walls in frustration. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away furiously. Telling her that Mr. Lyle was dead had to be the cruelest thing of all the cruelties she had ever endured around this place. For so long Mr. Lyle had been her only human contact, the single difference between isolation and being totally alone. But still she couldn't entirely begrudge Mr. Raines for it. Her caretakers had always had her best interests at heart. For so long she had hated this answer to her questions of "Why?" It was always the same "It's for your own good." But how could she be mad at someone for looking after her? Mr. Raines could be protecting her from another one those things she wasn't supposed to know. But it was still frustrating not knowing. Wetness once again pricked at her eyes and she shoved the heels of her fists into them, watching the neon-like color display flash behind here lids.

_"Tears are weakness Riley... I don't ever want to see you cry."_

_"You belong here Riley. This is your home."_

_"The world is dangerous Riley. We will never hurt you here. You are safe with us."_

Still she couldn't quite forget...

_He lied about Mr. Lyle_

Riley folded in on herself in the small space, her head cradled on her arms and her body wracking with suppressed sobs. "You told me I could trust you..."

_Could I trust him about Mr. Lyle?_

"You Liar!" Riley jumped to her feet, remembering to duck low enough that her head wouldn't hit the roof of the space. Rage was coursing through her body like poison, faster and further than she could have previously imagined. "You told me I could trust you! You lied!" She threw herself at the metal doorway, causing it to shudder in its hinges. "You killed her! You killed her in front of me! I _remember_!" She flung herself at the doorway again, part of her wanting to vent the anger, the fury, at what she had been led to believe, and part of her wanting to draw attention from whoever might be listening on the other side. "You told me she was transferred! You let me believe it was_ my_ _fault_, but you killed her! You stole the only two people that ever meant _anything_!" Riley yelled at the top of her lungs, her hands banging of their own accord against the door of the solitary cell, ducked low enough into a crouch that she wasn't in danger of hitting her head against the ceiling of the cell as she lunged forwards.

A few rooms away Raines was watching her on a video monitor.

"You said she wouldn't remember." He hissed accusingly at the Doctor standing next to him, who flinched slightly in fear.

"A...A minor inconvenience...we can... we can fix-"

"You _will_ fix it... Now."

"Yes, Yes of course. Right away." The doctor said, turning around to look for someone to pass the bad temper of his boss onto. "You there!" He yelled at an orderly passing by the room. "Get the girl out now!"

"Right away sir." The orderly responded, dashing off to the containment ward.

The orderly walked briskly over to the isolation cell, calling over a sweeper from his station at the entrance of the hallway. The medic fumbled with the keys, dropping them twice, as he unlocked the door. He looked over to the sweeper, who was considerably larger than himself, and motioned towards the door.

"Well, open it..." He said as though it were obvious, trying to avoid the wrath of whoever was on the other side. The pounding from the opposite side of the door having greatly dampened whatever confidence he possessed.

Riley threw herself against the door just before it opened, the recoil casting her into the back wall of the cell as light flooded the tiny room. Her arm automatically moved up in front of her face to protect against the harshly blinding light as her eyes desperately tried to adjust.

"Get out of there you." A man said gruffly as he grabbed her arm and pulled her forcefully from the room.

Riley cried out in a mixture of pain and protest as he twisted her arm behind her and began cuffing her hands.

"Ouch! Let go, I want to speak to Mr. Lyle! I need to talk to him!"

_I need to know if he killed her._

The man finished cuffing her hands and pushed her roughly away from him. Her head collided with the opposite wall of the corridor as the restraints around her wrists wouldn't allow her to cushion the blow. The sweeper grabbed her shoulder and spun her around none too gently, pushing her back into the wall with such ferocity that she was surprised her lungs didn't collapse in on the themselves, seeming to take some sort of pleasure in causing her pain.

"And why do you think Mr. Lyle would want to talk to the likes of you? You're an experiment; if he wanted anything out of you he'd be down here wouldn't he?"

"I want to speak to him!" She tried to hide the sting of the taunt, what if Mr. Lyle really didn't want to see her?

"Yeah well, I think he's probably got a lot better things to do than speaking to the little rat that runs his mazes. You're nothing; he wouldn't have the time for someone like you."

"That isn't true!" She cried out unthinkingly.

"Are you calling me a liar?" The sweeper growled, gripping the front of her shirt and pulling her closer so that their eyes met. One of his front teeth was grey, as though it had died, and his breath was rank as he spoke directly into her face.

"Let me teach you something. You are a project. You will never be anything more than a project. You are a tool, a device. You have no power around here... They make the rules, you follow the rules, and when you don't, you get sent down here and I have to deal with your sorry little ass. So be a good little pretender, and come with me."

Riley balked as the sweeper lead her down the corridor, but the man was considerably larger than her and her resistance was useless. He dragged her down a long series of white passageways smelling largely of fresh paint and disinfectant spray. The cramped muscles in her legs protested the movement as she was pulled down the hallways, all resembling one another. After a short while Riley stopped trying to familiarize herself with them. The bulky sweeper stopped outside of a door and pushed her against the wall, undoing the handcuffs before shoving her forcibly into the room. She just barely managed to get her hands out in front of her to catch her fall before landing unceremoniously at the feet of another man.

"Now that's what we like to see," The sweeper that had brought her said, stepping through the doorway and sneering down at her, "complete submission. Go ahead; bow down and cower at the feet of your betters."

Riley pushed herself up angrily from the floor at this statement, the temper that was always bubbling near the surface lately about to break through.

"Now really, don't get up, if you want to do the act completely you should start kissing his shoes." He taunted her, seeming to take delight in the sound of his own voice. For about all of two seconds Riley wondered what a kiss was and why he expected her to do it to this other man's footwear. She did however, know an insult when she heard one, and her hand seemed to move of its own accord as her temper built. She punched him full in the face. The other sweeper in the room pinned her to the floor in the next instant, though it really didn't matter to Riley as she took immense satisfaction in watching the man writhing on the floor moaning through his broken nose. Her knuckles ached dully as the second sweeper, whom she decided to name 'Two', pushed her into the wall and handcuffed her arm tightly to a small metal ring designed for that purpose, the silver cuff biting into her flesh cruelly. Placing one restraint around her right hand and the other through the loop, the sweeper stepped away and began tampering with several tinted bottles on the countertop that ran along the wall. Riley noticed with a well concealed thrill that her left hand was left free.

The injured sweeper, whom she decided to call 'One', pushed himself from the floor and took a step toward her menacingly, still clutching at his face.

"You gon do pay for dat one genius." He bit out, his voice sounding muffled behind his hand and his broken nose hindering his speech. Two came over, holding a prepared syringe between his forefinger and thumb, and Riley backed up automatically as he approached, but One waved his hand in the air. "Oh no, she stays awake for this one."

"We don't have orders for this." Two spoke quietly through clenched teeth, not moving his lips as though this would stop Riley from hearing the comment. She did however, and fear raced like electricity along her nerves; what could he want to do that the Centre wouldn't authorize? Riley already knew instinctually that whatever it was it couldn't be good.

"Yeah? We do dow." One said, walking over to Riley and pinning her fully against the wall. He placed a hand over her mouth, pushing his face into her own and meeting her eyes. "One sounb and by the dime I'm drough wid jou you'll wish you'd dieb." He ground his hand against her mouth so hard that her lips cut against her teeth. "Unduhsdand pretender?"

Riley bit him.

-

-

Raines watched on a monitor as Riley was pushed into a sterile white room. The next step in the renewal program having been moved up in time. The doctors had been assuring him with almost annoying certainty that they would be able to rectify the problem along with the behavioral complications which she had come for originally. Raines was not so sure. He watched as Riley was tossed roughly into the room, losing her balance as she struggled to stabilize herself on rubbery legs. Soon after events began to deviate horribly away from anything that could be termed 're-education.'

Raines waited some time after the scene of carnage ended before he headed down the hallway towards the cell where Riley was being handled. The girl looked both frightened and strangely triumphant. Whichever emotion eventually won over was an easy one for him to manipulate, and he allowed her to stew in the cold silence of the ward while he made plans. Sufficiently prepared for what he would say to her, he stepped quietly out the door. He saw the doctor from previous down the hallway and ordered a small team of sweepers to be dispatched to the room Riley was being held in. The doctor pattered down the corridor after him, his face puckered up in a semblance of badly disguised annoyance.

"Sir, with all do respect, you can't go down there. You'll ruin the entire re-education process..."

Raines was sorely tempted to vent his annoyance, but instead chose to get rid of the pest in a less permanent manner. "The re-education has been cancelled. Go look at your cameras... this avenue of reprogramming was ruined before it began."

"But...But sir..." The doctor couldn't seem to think of anything to say other than 'but sir' and his protests died out as he grudgingly dispatched the sweepers to the room.

-

-

She bit him. She felt blood leak into her mouth and clamped down harder on the man's hand, relishing the exquisite look of pain on his face. Two came at her then, pulling her head back by her hair and causing her mouth to open up. He banged her head against the wall behind it for good measure before stepping away as One came toward her again with mixed fury and pain burning in his eyes. Riley noted with some satisfaction that she could see bone sticking out between the flesh of his fingers. At this point she was surprised his index finger hadn't come off in her mouth.

"Why jou wittle-" Riley never actually found out what a little something she was as his fist connected with her stomach not a moment before he said it. She felt the air leave her lungs in a great rush as her body folded in on itself, her knees crumpling to the floor. The next blow came to her face, his undamaged hand plowing into her eye with enough force to knock her skull into the wall.

"Dot so duff dow are we?"

Riley tried to get her mind to cooperate as the room spun around her, trying desperately to latch onto a way out of this mess. "If they... If they find me in here like this... they're going to know exactly who to blame." She said, forcing her shaking legs into a stand as she still tried to regain her breath.

His hand found its way around her throat, pressing her against the wall "This is the Renewal wing- I'll tell them that you weren't cooperating." He held his hand up in her face, the mangled mess looking even more grotesque close up, "It's not like I don't have any evidence, now is it?

Riley struggled to breath around his hand crushing her windpipe, desperately grappling with him with her free hand in an attempt to ease the pressure on her throat. "Still, it would be bad if they found out you'd hurt such an important asset as me... Actually...I feel kind of stupid telling you this, I'm sure you would have thought of that on your own." She choked out, spitting the words between gritted teeth. Her vision was beginning to blur through lack of oxygen and she threw out her last chance. "It would just be horrible if They came through the door and saw you strangling one of their largest investments... wouldn't it Mr. Raines?" She said, settling her eyes on a point over One's shoulder.

Both sweepers in the room turned in surprise to look behind them, One releasing her throat immediately. Riley thankfully took in a large gulp of air, her head pounding as though she had been upside down and all of her blood had rushed to her brain. Feeling as though solid flames of rage were licking at her better judgment Riley took this opportunity to snatch his gun from its holster under his suit jacket. He turned back around the instant he realized it was a ruse and Riley shot him in the stomach, watching the red blossom across the chest of his white shirt as he fell to the ground, a look of permanent surprise etched across his face. An odd thrill of sadistic pleasure coursed up her spine as she watched him fall backwards, the emotion startling her.

Two was halfway through pulling his own gun from its holster at his side when she threw the gun at him, satisfied as it hit his skull and he dropped to the ground unconscious. She was still stumbling over the oddly wicked feeling of satisfaction at watching that man die as she fumbled to dislocate her thumb and separate herself from the wall she was cuffed to. She managed to extricate herself, wincing as she popped the digit back into its socket and rubbed it back into circulation.

Taking her first real look at her surroundings, carefully avoiding the men lying on the floor, Riley saw medical equipment dotting the edges of the room, not an uncommon occurrence in this wing of the Centre. Hoping to gain some information as to what was supposed to have happened to her here, she walked over and began examining the tiny bottles of drugs, but none of them were labeled; the only indicator of what they contained was a small color coded sticker on the lid. Realizing she couldn't stall any longer Riley turned around and inspected the bodies of the men on the floor. Two had a large gash on his forehead, the hair around the cut matting with blood. Despite this he seemed to be alright, his pulse was a little shallow, but there wasn't much she could do about that now. She didn't bother checking the vital signs of One, knowing what she would find; no pulse, no respiration, no pupil reaction to light. He was dead.

Crouching down next to him and reaching out she tentatively touched a shaking hand to an arm that had already gone pale. She withdrew just as quickly with a startled exclamation, blindly scrambling backwards until she reached the wall. He was ice cold.

Was Sarah ever that cold? The hand holding hers as she was led down the winding corridors of the Facility had always been warm, was it possible that that same hand could ever be as icy as this one? It seemed impossible that flesh could lose all of its temperate warmth so quickly. Skin was warm, but gazing over at the prone form of the sweeper she decided:

She liked him cold.

Her eyes were drawn to the man's inert form like a magnet. She couldn't look away. He was lying on his back, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The most unsettling bit about it though, was the absolute lack of movement. His chest wasn't moving up and down, his eyes weren't blinking; there was an absence here. All of the subtle machinations of the human body that she had grown to take for granted had ceased to function. And she had been the cause. Riley pushed herself back up from the wall, walking back over to the corpse; she wasn't scared of it anymore. Why should she be? She was the one in control right now. She had won. It was hard to explain, but at that moment, Riley felt exhilarated. It was amazing the amount of power you could feel upon holding another person's life in your hand. She was in control, she had the power. And for the first time in what felt like an indeterminable span, she wasn't angry in even the slightest way. An unnatural calm had enveloped her in the instant she pulled the trigger. Like water through a hole in a dam, all of her fury had escaped her. All she felt now was control, like things were right, it felt good.

_What would Mr. Raines think of all this?_ She wondered, crouching down before the body. He would be furious. Riley had never really had a knack for staying out of trouble, but this time she had really, truly gone too far. It wouldn't matter to Them that the man had been strangling her, the fact of the matter was, she had killed him. And that would be exactly how They would see it.

_And should you ever do anything like this again... you will find that there are far worse places to be sent than the renewal wing... Places that make this seem like the very epitome of warm and welcoming... There will be changes made around here..._

Mr. Raines' voice echoed upon itself in her mind.

A spark of fear ran up her spine at that thought, the first real emotion she had felt since killing the man. It was kind of annoying; she had liked that feeling of calm, that feeling like everything had simply ceased to exist. It seemed unfair that it should be gone so soon. She wanted it back, but it had left and replaced itself with a hollow feeling that really had only one way of being filled. She knew it now even though she had no proof.

_Kill again? Perhaps... but not now...it has to feel right..._

Still, there was the matter of what to do when someone came to collect her. She knew without a doubt that someone had seen the spectacle that had played itself out in the room and would be down soon to deal with it.

_She could never give them the chance..._

She gingerly reached over to the dead man's pocket, removing his key card.

_But where to go afterward?_

It wasn't as though she could just leave the Centre. The Centre was the only safe place for her. Going out into the real world would be dangerous, someone would exploit her. Maybe the facility?... then she'd just be in the same mess but in a different location... She had once entertained herself with the prospect of living in the vents when she was younger. A childish game that didn't apply to the here and now... unfortunate, she could probably be pretty good at that. No where to run then, but that still left her here with an incriminating dead body and plenty of ways people could think up to make her pay for it. There was nothing she could do to get herself out of this. What would they do to her? In any other circumstance she imagined they would send her to the renewal wing- but she was already there. To those darker places Mr. Raines had referred to then?... Most likely. The prospect of this wasn't one she looked forward to. But she deserved punishment; she had harmed a Centre employee. Everything she had ever been told, said this was wrong. These people had done everything for her. Mr. Raines would not be pleased.

At that moment, the object of her thoughts wheeled through the door of the room. Riley scrambled to her feet quickly, discretely tucking the key card she still held in her hand into the waistband of her pants, as she didn't have any pocket to place it in. It would be best if she wasn't caught with that right now. Mr. Raines never need know that she had thought of running... it wasn't as though she had followed through anyways. Part of her felt guilty at this prospect of deceiving him, she shouldn't be lying to Mr. Raines, but self preservation won out in the end. She steeled herself against the thoughts of punishment running rampant in her mind. She wanted to say something, an explanation perhaps, or an apology- though she couldn't quite work up enough remorse for the action to make it sincere. Her jaw had seemingly locked up on itself, and she didn't trust the words that might escape her mouth if she ever did regain the ability of speech.

Mr. Raines walked over to stand before the body. He had given her a glance before stepping into the room, but hadn't done anything to acknowledge her presence since. She waited for him to say something, to do something, wincing inwardly at the thoughts of the physical repercussions of her actions.

"Come here Riley." Mr. Raines spoke to her while still examining the corpse. Riley timidly walked over and stood opposite him, expecting to be slapped at any moment.

"The bullet appears to have punctured his right lung. And his head split open in the back when he hit the ground." He said, indicating the wounds the man sustained before he died. Riley didn't know what to say to these insights, still utterly confused as to what she was in store for. Riley couldn't read Mr. Raines' emotions, she had never been very good at telling what he was thinking- he was far too good at masking his thoughts. "What were you feeling when you shot him?" Mr. Raines had turned to look at her instead of the body now and Riley felt as though his gaze was looking through her very soul.

"I was angry." She told him, frowning in thought. It was the truth- she had been so angry she could have choked on it.

"And after?"

Riley was almost afraid of answering this question. She was uncertain of what his reaction would be. "I felt... I'm not sure... I was excited. And I felt really powerful, like I was in control." She said. It never occurred to her to lie, not to him. She hesitated before adding on a final part. "I... I enjoyed it."

The corners of his mouth turned upward slightly in an expression she wasn't sure she recognized before he backhanded her across the face. "Very good." He said. "Hate is a powerful weapon Riley."

She suppressed the urge to bring her hand to her stinging cheek and nodded, "I feel it all the time."

-

-

Riley watched as Miss Zurbin's tall shadow filled the doorway of the room. She was just as pretty as Riley remembered her to be, despite the danger that Riley now knew lurked beneath the surface. Inherent mistrust and dislike bubbled slowly to the surface as she watched the woman look contemptuously around the room, her eyes pausing for a second on the dead sweeper. Her upper lip curled under in disgust and then she brought her gaze over to Riley. Zurbin's eyes reduced to suspicious slits as she looked the girl over. The intrigue of before was gone, replaced by something that found Riley a lot less interesting, and a lot more dangerous. Her eyes traveled upwards from Riley to Mr. Raines.

"If I might have a word with you Doctor?" She said, motioning out the door and stepping aside as he exited past her. She gave Riley one last look of dry suspicion before exiting after him. The revulsion in her manner gave Riley a cold feeling of anxiety, as though things were about to go terribly wrong.

Riley sank back against the wall broodingly, going over the conversation Mr. Raines had had with her before they had been interrupted.

_"But Sir... Why?" _

_"Why what Riley?" _

_Riley hesitated before plowing on with her question. Part of her  
knowing that he wouldn't like it that she was asking. "Sir...Why...  
why did you kill Sarah... And why did you say that Mr. Lyle was  
dead?... Why did you lie?" Riley asked, trying to keep the emotion  
out of her voice, though she didn't truly succeed. She fought off  
the emotions of earlier, the ones she had given into inside the  
isolation cell. She needed the answer to this and he would never  
give her one if she went to pieces like that again. _

_"We have been over this Riley... Many times before..."  
Mr. Raines said reproachfully. _

_"But Sir-" _

_"Stop arguing Riley." _

_"Yes sir." She slumped her shoulders in defeat, what  
would come next was an excerpt from a speech that she had heard  
many times over the years, and it became harder and harder to hear  
it each time. _

_"I've told you before... Sometimes this institution  
does things for your own good... We're here to protect you...  
Things happen among the people here that you don't always need to  
know about, this is for your own well-being..." _

**_You killed her in front of me... was that for my own good?_**

_Riley wanted to ask, but knew better than to push him. Something  
must have shown in her manner however that told him the answer just  
wasn't quite good enough this time, because after a pause he  
continued. _

_"Riley, Sarah wasn't pushing your project in the  
direction it needed to go... She was a danger..." _

_"But... but Mr. Lyle... He wasn't a danger, was he?" _

_"No-" _

_"-Then why did you say that he was dead? Why did you  
say that Jarod had killed him?" She cut him off without even  
realizing it. Perhaps Sarah had been a danger... but Mr. Lyle had  
never done anything like** that**... _

_"Riley, Lyle was transferred to a different project...  
You were told that he was dead because we knew that if you thought  
he was alive it would be a distraction... We couldn't allow your  
work to be affected..." _

_"Well... may I see him now?... Please?... I'm not  
working on anything right now..." _

_"No." _

_"But-" _

_Mr. Raines cuffed her admonishingly, "Riley, stop  
arguing... The answer is no... This sort of behavior is precisely  
the reason why we told you he was dead in the first place... forget  
about Lyle and forget about Sarah... They aren't a part of your  
life anymore... _

Riley sat with her back to the wall and pounded it with her fist in frustration; it wasn't fair! She wouldn't let it affect her work she just wanted to talk to him!

Riley's mind came back to the present situation with a painful sting as tension in the corridor outside peaked and her empathic senses picked it up. She rubbed at her temple to get rid of the lingering emotion and wondered idly what was going on out there. She looked up at the surveillance camera in the corner of the room and decided to risk it, the footage was only monitored half the time anyways...

Riley crept over to the open door, crouching down and hiding in the shadows, ready to move the instant the two adults began to come back inside. They were about halfway down the hall, and the hostility in the air was palpable. She strained her ears to hear what they were talking about, a little voice in the back of her head screaming that eavesdropping was wrong. She squashed it down, placing it in the corner of her mind where it couldn't get into trouble. Listening in was the only way she ever got any information around here, if they didn't want to be overheard they should have gone into an office or something.

"...not the point..." Miss Zurbin was saying. Riley frowned as she realized she couldn't hear everything, they were too far away.

"... pretender since Jarod... think... profits..." This sentence made about as much sense as the first to Riley and she scooted a little closer, out of the shadows, but not yet in their immediate line of sight.

"...institution cannot afford... rogue pretender..." Miss Zurbin replied, "We have Jarod... don't need her anymore."

"..." Mr. Raines next sentence was lost to Riley's ears as his voice got lower in volume. It always seemed to do this whenever he was especially angry, and her empathic traits were only confirming the suspicion. Whatever he had said seemed to trigger something in Miss Zurbin though, because she answered him in a voice loud enough that it could almost be classified as yelling. Riley was washed over with the Triumvirate woman's angry emotions, literally knocked backward by them, and she tried to shield her mind against this woman's fury as she remained listening.

"She's dangerous!" She cried, gesticulating erratically.

Raines voice was once again lost, but Miss Zurbin was now more than making up for it.

"Not towards the Centre! --She just murdered a Centre employee, I don't care if he was 'expendable' the next person she goes after might not be! It was a valid endeavor, but it obviously didn't work. She got us what we needed, we have Jarod back now. This company cannot afford another AWOL pretender with a vendetta against the world... We're pulling the backing on this project Doctor... This is a Triumvirate directive- Your subject is being terminated."

Riley felt her heart skip a beat at the final word. Terminated... she had always known that it was possible... the Triumvirate could order it... but it had never seemed like something she needed to worry about, it was something that happened to investments that turned sour... terminated was a red stamp on a folder somewhere. Riley had difficulty seeing herself in relation to either of those. Terminated... They were going to kill her...

_I need to get out of here..._

Riley scrambled up from the floor, looking around the room for an avenue of escape. She still had the sweeper's key card, but she couldn't go out where everyone could see her, she'd be caught in an instant! As she stood thinking a persistent urging in the back of her mind screamed to hurry. Get away! Get away!

The vent, it was the only way. The vent of the room was located in the ceiling, about a foot from the wall. Now the question was how to get up there? Riley grabbed the handcuffs off the dead sweeper, running over to ring in the wall she had been chained to earlier. She opened one of the cuff holes, holding it ready in her hand, and hoisted herself up onto the ring, trying to balance on it with one foot as she held her other leg out to the side to keep her weight in proportion, so she wouldn't fall over. The ring she was standing on was thin metal, with a sharp curve and her foot twisted painfully while she was standing with it as her only support. She reached outward and looped the open cuff around a slat in the vent grating, losing her balance just as circle closed and the lock in the cuff clicked. She hung onto the set of handcuffs like a lifeline, as she fell off the ring stanchion and, suspended in air, hung about two or three feet above the floor. Her arms strained as she maneuvered herself closer to the grating, like one eternal pull-up. She reached up and undid the first of the four screws that held the grate in place in the ceiling, it gave an unnerving shudder as the screw slipped loose and she began on the second without wasting any time, the vent cover would not be able to hold her weight like this for very long. Before she could get the second screw fully undone it slipped from its hole and the grate gave a jarring swing outward. The handcuff slid around on the slat loosely and she pulled herself up into the vent, cutting her hands on the sharp metal edges. Her foot kicked the grate as she got entirely in and the abused hunk of metal fell to the floor with a clatter.

Mr. Raines and Miss Zurbin entered the room moments later, drawn back in by the crash. The gaping hole in the ceiling where the vent cover should be seemed to Riley like a flashing sign, indicating where she had gone. As she scrambled away from the room through the cold steel tunnels she heard Miss Zurbin let off a string of words she had only heard Mr. Lyle say once, and was told not to repeat. The order went out just as quickly, spreading like lightning among the sweepers and orderlies below- lockdown; no one without a swipe card gets out of the ward.

Riley felt the small bit of plastic dig into her side where she had stashed it in the waistband of her cotton pants. She stopped in the shaft once she felt she had put a safe distance between herself and her starting point, she sat back against the metal wall and pulled out the card to examine it. It was the dead sweeper's pass, no one would notice it missing for a while... That was good; if they tagged it the card would be useless. Could hardly open a broom closet much less a Sub-Level access door.

Mr. Lyle had once described his job with her as his 'ticket to success' when they were both younger. He had been really eager, happy about his job. He said that it was the sort of job that gave you power within a company like this. And then he had jokingly teased her that if she was a really good pretender and did everything he said it would mean great things for both of them... Riley had known even then that it wouldn't really, it would mean great things for him... but it hadn't mattered to her then, she was happy to help him.

This key card was a ticket too. It was her ticket. Her ticket... but to where? To what? The outside world? The notion of this was frightening, the large, loud, dangerous, outside world. And the Centre... the Centre was safe... but not anymore. Leaving the Centre was wrong. It was like letting down everyone that she had ever known... But what did it matter anymore? It wasn't as though she hadn't already. They wouldn't be trying to kill her if she hadn't let them all down in the worst way already. Nothing she did mattered anymore. If she didn't leave she was dead.

Riley tucked the key card back into its place at her side and crawled forwards. Weak people died. Weak pretenders were terminated. She wasn't weak. Survival was all that mattered right now.


	21. Chapter 21

_Westheimer's Rule: __To estimate the time it takes to do a task: estimate the time you think it should take, multiply by two and change the unit of measure to the next highest unit. Thus, we allocate two days for a one hour task._

**

* * *

**

Riley sat back on her haunches and pushed her hair away from her sweaty face, looking around herself, disoriented. Shafts of light cut through the dimness of the cold steel tunnels randomly; pushing in through the vent grates every few yards. The ventilation system of the Centre was a labyrinth, and she could only truly appreciate now how easy it had been for her to navigate around the small facility she had grown up in. Riley did not know where the renewal wing was located in respect to anything she might be familiar with, part of her thought it might be near the infirmary. It had the same sterile smell to it that seemed to permeate the very essence of every medical wing she had ever been in. The infirmary was on SL 14 if she remembered correctly. Another part of her mind, the one she was more inclined to listen to, seemed to think that the Renewal wing would be very deep under the main building of the Centre, on one of the lowest sublevels. It would be easier to hide. And easier for the people above to ignore.

Of course she had no way of knowing which guess was correct, she had only gone on two excursions through the vents since coming to the Centre; short little romps around the building- and she had used the elevator partway. Nothing she could spy through the grates looked familiar.

Riley crawled forward, looking through each grate she passed, keeping an eye on the sweepers below her. It was common knowledge that she had disappeared into the vent system; the grate cover she had left lying stranded on the floor was evidence enough of that. It wouldn't be long before sweepers began searching the vents for her. She stepped carefully over a motion sensor's invisible beam, noting the small black device attached to the shaft wall. She would have to look out for those. The devices were few in number here in the vents, but that hardly stopped them from being fully functional. If her movements registered to the security officials upstairs then this short-lived bid for freedom would be over all too soon. Stumble upon one of these and she may as well simply give herself up.

The ventilation shafts of the Centre all varied in size, becoming large enough to stand in near the larger rooms, such as the simulation laboratories. But the one she was in now was just big enough for an adult to crawl into, and even then it would be cramped and difficult to maneuver inside. As of yet, no sweepers had been sent inside after her, though she had no doubts that they would try entering through one of the larger vent systems. They would also be waiting outside every vent shaft that led to the outside of the building. If she were to get close to the simulation labs she would surely be caught, unfortunately, this was one of her few points of reference as to her location. The others being her own room and the few offices that were stationed in the sub-levels she frequented. There wasn't much to work with.

It didn't really matter anyways, or at least that was what she was trying to convince herself of. She needed to get out of the Centre, and quickly, and the only way she could possibly find an exit out of the building would be on the upper levels. She crawled to the end of the tunnel, and looked upward into the chute that led to the next floor up. It was a dark vertical tunnel, black like a sweeper's suit, or slowly drying blood. She couldn't tell how far it went up; the entrance to the next shaft was just as dark as the conduit that led to it. The small amount of light that filtered in through the grating next to her lit up the very bottom, and gave her an image of what she had to deal with. She could only assume that the condition of the bottom of the vent was the same through to the top. There weren't any purchases she could hold onto; the sides were a perfectly vertical square, going up for at least nine feet if not higher. The up-shaft would have to reach from the ceiling of one level to the ceiling of the next. The ceilings of the sub-levels had always seemed just a bit lower than the ones Riley had seen elsewhere, above ground-- the corridors down here were just a bit tighter, smaller and coiled tightly into one another. Riley liked the halls of the sub-levels better; the ones upstairs had always felt too open, too limitless. Judging off the measurements her memory provided, Riley thought the next level should be in the range of eight feet up from the bottom of the shaft, give or take an inch or two. She was certain of the height; she had been traversing these sublevels every day back and forth from the simulation labs for the past month. If her mind had not managed to retain any information in that amount of time about her surroundings, then she deserved to be caught.

Standing up straight from her crouched position at the bottom of the shaft, the top was only three feet or so above her head, with her arms outstretched it was probably only two or so. She jumped up, latching on to the top edge with one hand and managing to pull herself up enough to grab hold with the other. The cold metal bit deeply into her hands as she hefted herself up, the sharp edge slicing through her flesh with white hot precision. She managed to hoist herself up past her elbows, relenting the pressure on the gashes in her palms. Her hands slipped sporadically against the slick steel, and made the ordeal feel much harder than it actually was. She finally managed to pull herself over the edge, landing a kick on the opposite side of the tunnel and propelling herself over onto the floor of a shaft again. The blood rushing down her arms to the new gashes in her palms made them feel as though they were burning. She tore off small strips of cloth from the sleeves of her shirt- they had always been too long for her arms anyway- and tied them into crude bandages around her hands, her breath hissing through her teeth at the stinging sensation this triggered.

The vent here continued on in opposite directions, running off to her right and left. Not knowing where either one would take her and hoping it wouldn't matter in any case, she chose a path at random, trying to ignore the sharp stinging pain that sliced through her hands with each movement she made.

-

-

Faizah Zurbin strode around the small room, examining the twisted remnants of the hatchway the missing pretender had fled through. She stood up, nudging at it with her toe, and focused her furious gaze on the only other occupant in the room.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but one of your selling points behind this girl was that she _obeyed _you?" She remarked snidely, giving a significant look up into the dark vent opening above her head.

Mr. Raines wheeled his oxygen tank further into the room from where he had been standing near the entrance, dragging it behind him as he walked, inhaling deeply before speaking.

"Sweepers are combing the Centre looking for her. She doesn't know the building well enough to get anywhere fast. We will have her back within the hour."

"Oh that's perfectly alright Dr. Raines," Zurbin remarked idly, toying with one of the many bottles residing along the countertop which ran against the wall, noting the syringes set off to one side, "After all, what with three successful escape attempts from this facility I suppose this is the conduct one should have _expected_ from such an institution as The Centre."

"She thought you were going to kill her." Raines responded, trying to keep the highly accusatory tone out of his voice. His every instinct was against any form of sucking up; so used to being the person in power over another, however, his own survival was far more important in the end than a slight bruising of his ego.

Zurbin spun around to face him, knocking down one of the bottles in her anger, "Congratulations Dr. Raines! You really _did _create a genius!"

"The girl is merely following her programming... she understands her purpose to be that she serves the Centre... It is her sole reason for existing...She obviously cannot fulfill that purpose while she is dead, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes well, she would serve _me_ a lot better if she simply stood still while I had her shot!" Zurbin spat out, her rage controlling her speech more than anything. "That subject is a danger to this organization and she is only functioning currently to prove it!"

Raines gave up trying to explain motives to the enraged African, an old belief about women in the workplace running through his mind and opted for simple appeasement. "We will find her."

He left the room then, planning to do just what he had said. He, of course, did not plan on having the termination order completed once the pretender was found- not by any stretch of the imagination. It would be simple enough to fake her death and have the project moved underground; goodness knew he had done it before. And it would certainly be a more fruitful plan of action, no more answering to the higher ups, no more damn stipulations or constraints on the research he performed... Yes, Riley would be working for him alone, and now that Jarod was back as well... there would be no end to the possibilities.

-

-

Riley shifted her weight even as she kept pressing forward, trying not to aggravate further the bruises currently forming on her knees. The vent was beginning to open up now, getting large enough so that she could walk in a sort of hunched style. She stood up and began traveling in this fashion, trading the discomforts of crawling on all fours for a dull ache running through the entirety of her curved spine. She kept moving in this direction despite her own inner warnings telling her that she would run into sweepers any minute. And then they would drag her out and then... and then... No. It wouldn't happen. She'd find a way out of the Centre and she'd be safe... or as safe as one could be outside of the Centre. If they thought she was enough of a security risk to warrant a termination order they would certainly come hunting after her... like they had with Jarod. But they wouldn't be trying to bring her back... they would be trying to kill her. Then again, the outside world may very well try to kill her too.

The truth of the matter was that she was only trading one danger for another at the moment. Leaving everything and everyone whom she had ever known. The Centre was safe, it was filled with people she both knew and respected, the only people that had ever concerned themselves with her. Her own parents hadn't even wanted her. She had never been told this information directly, but she knew it all the same. They weren't here; they had never bothered with worrying about her, why should she bother to worry about them? The only people who had ever busied themselves to do anything with her were all here. She belonged here. If ever there was a home for a person like herself, the Centre was it, but her home wasn't safe any longer. Not for her.

Riley jumped as she heard a soft scuttling sound in front of her and her muscles tensed, ready to bolt. Sweepers! Her mind screamed. Run! It yelled at her. Run! Run! Run! She made a frightened move back the way she had come as another scuttling sound reverberated its way down the conduit, seemingly coming from all sides. Her eyes were wide, her mouth dry and her pulse racing. Her eyes darted from side to side, did that shadow just move? Or what about that one? Her legs propelled her backwards without thought, tripping her up over her own two feet. She skittered backwards, managing to roll back over her shoulder to land in a crouch. Her eyes peeled through the shaft in front of her, watching and waiting for an attack, but her eyes, so accustomed to the shadowy areas where she had lived her entire life, couldn't pick up any oddity.

After a few intense moments of waiting Riley pushed herself angrily up from the floor of the vent shaft, gazing at the surrounding darkness in the vent in front of her for a few moments, watching as it seemed to grow and envelop everything around. Taking a few slow steps backwards she whirled around and began darting back the way she had come, racing over her own footsteps. She would have to find another way out, she couldn't stand going down that way any further. She ran away fearfully, inwardly furious with herself for such cowardice. Mr. Raines would have been vehement if he were here now, but much more difficult to take would have been Mr. Lyle's disappointment in her. She glanced back over her shoulder and her footsteps slowly came to a halt. She didn't know where she was any longer, but it was far away from where she had been earlier. Slowly her heart rate returned to normal and her breathing calmed. She was back somewhere in the smaller vent system, and no longer panicked at the prospect that a sweeper might be lurking around the next corner, waiting for her.

She looked around herself slowly, trying to get her bearings. She rotated slowly on the spot, turning a full 360 degrees. There was an odd quality to part of the vent shaft off to her left; typically the silver metal of the vents was broken every yard or so by a streak of light coming in through a grate, the steel walls of the conduits reflected the light so that they seemed to glow all around, it wasn't usually all that dark. But down this shaft, right around the halfway mark between two grates, there was a dark, rectangular, patch of inky black lying in the middle of the floor. It was smaller than a vent grate, about a quarter of the size actually, and completely motionless, though she wondered why she expected it to be moving in the first place; what did she want it to do? Get up and start dancing? Riley scoffed inwardly at the thought and began advancing on the object, moving with an almost absurd amount of caution. It wasn't really all that absurd when you took into consideration how few objects she had encountered before which she couldn't identify right away- the few she had hadn't brought particularly good experiences with them.

As she approached her wariness eased as she recognized the object for what it was; though she had to admit confusion as to why it had been placed in the middle of a vent. Resting on the floor in front of her was what was unmistakably a file folder.

It was bright green, fraying around the corners as though it had been closed and reopened on many different occasions. Odd jumbles of paper stuck out haphazardly, the varying sizes, colors, textures even, making it impossible to organize everything uniformly. Several small disks slipped out between the pages as she picked it up, clattering as they landed, rolling for a few feet before they flopped onto their sides and stopped. She bent to examine the nearest one, noting the date printed on the front in black ink. She reached out to pick it up, hoping to make a closer inspection of it. What were these things? Her breath left her in a rush as her fingers wrapped around the small data disk, suddenly bombarded with more images and feelings than her mind could sort through. She dropped the disk in surprise, staring at it with wide eyes. When she picked it up, someone had been screaming.

Riley ripped off an edge of her shirt sleeve, wrapping the cotton loosely around her fingers, and determinedly picked the disk back up, encasing it back in the folder she still held in her hand. She walked further down the duct, picking up more of the disks in the same manner to avoid any further empathic fantasies. She placed each back into the file, intent on investigating them further once she was out. Riley reached the last disk in the passage, but even as she bent down to pick it up, a hand snaked out from the shadows to reach it before her. Riley froze, every muscle in her body tensing in preparation to run. A shadow detached itself from the aperture ahead of her and stepped forward.

Crisscrossing shafts of light played across his face as he moved over a grate opening in front of her. Reaching out, he grabbed her arm at her side and gently opened her hand, placing the small diskette into her palm with a crooked smile.

Riley looked from the disk to the man in a mild sense of confusion.

"Angelo?"

Angelo pushed her fingers to close around the disk he had handed her and allowed her arm to drop back to her side. He cocked his head askance, his smile broadening. He looked at her mutely for a few more moments, before turning abruptly and disappearing back down the shaft.

Riley shoved the packet of papers and disks into her waistband at the small of her back and pulled her shirt down over it. The shapeless grey top hid the bulge well and she darted after Angelo, barely managing to keep the enigmatic man in sight. She caught occasional glances of his figure as he moved lithely along, displaying an agile sense of confidence here in his own domain. It was obvious that these tunnels were as easily navigable to him as the corridors were for the people who used them every day. Riley realized with a small amount of anxiety that if she were to lose Angelo now, she would be utterly lost. This thought in mind she chased after him with renewed intensity. She truly hoped her assumptions were right that he was trying to help her.

Riley scrambled around a corner and saw Angelo sitting contentedly at the opposite end of the tunnel. Light fell across his face in shafts, pouring in from the vent in front of him. Riley crawled forward cautiously, waiting to see if he would suddenly begin the sprint away through the maze once again. She edged still closer and was gratified when he didn't move away. With growing confidence she made a determined stride forward... And found herself falling.

-

-

Lyle strode down the deserted corridors of the Centre, a tension headache forming behind his temples. Every now and again he would pass a sweeper, but for the most part the building was deserted. Only members of the upper echelon would ever be into work at this godforsaken hour of the night. If the lower members of the Centre's society ever felt like their lives were in danger they had no idea what it must feel like to actually be of some importance. Everyone that was here at this time of night would be for the sole reason that they were trying to find dirt on other people's projects, information that they could get themselves involved in. Prove that they had some use for a little while longer. Keep themselves breathing for another day. When people got too much power around here, they became dangerous; they knew too much. And they were disposed of by the people who really held all the cards. When all was said and done, Lyle planned on being the person holding the trigger, not the one looking down the barrel of the gun like so many other ambitious recruits.

In a place such as the Centre, knowledge was power. And in most cases Lyle liked to think himself a pretty knowledgeable guy, he had always been very careful to keep himself in with the sort of people that would have intelligence on every thing that ever happened here. The ones with the secret projects, the ones who had been here long enough to know how to slip beneath the radar. And so, naturally, he was rather irked by the seemingly little amount of knowledge he had managed to dig up on anything of importance that had been going on with his own project. Oh yes, Lyle knew that for now, he was barred access from Riley, but that would soon change. The Centre could never keep him out of the loop for long. Lyle knew when he was beaten, and right now he wasn't- he just needed to think some strategy. Raines would expect some move like this, but that could be accounted for... just lay low for a while, get some inside information, and make your move. Tada, we are back in business. As a matter of fact, he was on his way to... collect some data... right at that moment.

Lyle reached the mezzanine, stopping short behind a pillar as he heard the elevator give off a small ding, preceding the doors opening. Scrutinizing with a cocked eyebrow the familiar pair of long legs and irritated behavior that disembarked from the carriage, Lyle's eyes became slits as he followed her passage down the corridor. The woman's flamboyant dress gave away her identity to Lyle without the need for him to ever see her face. Never in his life had he met a Triumvirate rep who could pull off that sort of garb and manage to be taken seriously. Not that most people didn't take anyone even remotely affiliated with the Triumvirate seriously... but he was certain that someone had at least had sarcastic thoughts about them at some point or another... or perhaps that was just him.

Lyle watched as the woman disappeared around the corner, headed towards one of the other areas of the building, thankfully away from the parking lot- which was his destination. He had the faintest temptation to follow her, find out what the Triumvirate was still doing here, for as far as his knowledge went they should have left at least two days ago.

"What the hell are you doing here Zurbin?" He spoke his thoughts aloud, muttering under his breath, his words lined with distaste.

"And I thought I had finally gotten rid of you." A voice piped up directly behind him.

Lyle didn't jump, though he did notice a small increase in his pulse rate, it wasn't of consequence to him, she wouldn't be able to tell that she had unnerved him, after all. He rotated slowly on the spot, half expecting to find her gun pointed into his face. To tell the truth he was rather impressed by her ability to sneak up on him so well. Elsewhere occupied as his attention had been, it still wasn't typically an easy thing to do. Parker stood not a foot behind him, hand on hip, tapping her foot on the tiled floor as though she wanted something from him. What, did she expect him to pay homage now? "Not now Sis." He said, annoyance etched in his voice. He didn't have the energy to deal with her. Too many conversations with Parker ended up turning into endless interrogations. Always poking her nose where it didn't belong, what had she found this time?

Parker ignored his less then amiable greeting and gave him a predatory smile. "What are you doing back here? Managed to worm your way back into the Centre's good graces so quickly?" She said, taking a few steps closer.

"Parker, it's late, and so am I. Not now." Lyle turned around to leave. In his mind he hoped the curt response would get her to leave, though he didn't really expect it to work. It certainly never had in the past

"Well in that case, I hope you weren't planning on meeting with anyone important." She replied, spinning him back around to face her.

Lyle rolled his eyes towards the ceiling in exasperation "Parker, what do you want?"

"You're the one who usually has the dirt on every little thing that ever goes on in this place..."

"And what makes you think I'd tell you anything?" Lyle said, seeing an opening to take control of the conversation.

"Information trade... I have information that you want, you have information that I want."

"You said so yourself Parker, I have a knack for knowing the stuff that happens around here-- what makes you think that I don't already know about the information that you have, and furthermore, what makes you think I'd want it?" He asked with a skeptical arch of his eyebrow.

"Well it really wasn't too difficult, all I had to do was assess your motives to find out what your next plan of action would be. All I had to do was think like a backstabbing little slug." She said this last part with a smirk. He missed the humor. "This is you, you'll want to get back into the inner circle, and if you want to do that you have to be of some importance-- and that means regaining control of junior genius downstairs. Am I right?"

"You have my attention." Lyle replied, letting off a few choice words of the four-letter persuasion in his mind. Were his motives really that transparent?

"What can I say Lyle, you've been out of the loop. I, on the other hand, happen to have some very important surveillance tapes that have everything to do with your pet project."

Lyle scoffed at that. "This is the best you've got? Please Parker, why would I be interested in surveillance tapes-- Raines cannot possibly have done that much in less than a week."

"You'd be surprised." Parker retorted, "I assure you, Doc Raines has been very busy."

Lyle tried not to show too much interest in her last statement. What could Darth have been doing that would get Parker's attention? "Fine, what have you got Parker?"

"Not here. We need talk about this somewhere away from prying eyes. C'mon." Parker started walking in the direction of her office, not bothering to see if he was following. He was, he was cursing in his mind the entire way there, but he was following.

Broots' head shot up like a groundhog from its hole as the door to Miss Parker's office was pushed forcefully open. Miss Parker stepped over the threshold and was followed after a pause by Mr. Lyle. Lyle caught his eye and Broots immediately ducked his head back down to his monitor, praying for Lyle's silent scrutiny to pass.

Lyle looked at the visible security camera positioned in the far corner of the room. "I can definitely see why you felt it was necessary to come here. Away from 'prying eyes' and all." He remarked sarcastically.

Parker sent him a glare before pushing him backwards to sit down in one of the armchairs in front of her desk. "You took care of surveillance Broots?"

Broots once again looked up from his computer screen, his eyes immediately darting over to Lyle's indifferent position in the armchair. Lyle caught his glance and gave a toothy smile from behind Miss Parker, watching as the tech's apparent unease grew, Lyle smirked inwardly at how easy the man was to manipulate.

Parker caught the silent exchange and snapped her fingers in front of Broots' face. "Over HERE Broots."

Broots snapped out of it with a jerk, turning his attention back towards his boss. "Wha- Oh yeah. Took care of it, according to the cameras you've been in here reading the same memo for the past 15 minutes. And while that may cause some speculation among security as to your literacy, they shouldn't be paying close enough attention to recognize the loop. Not at this time of night."

Lyle was sorely tempted to point out that that camera couldn't possibly be the only one in the room, but decided against mocking the tech's intelligence. As loathe as he was to admit it, Broots wasn't stupid, despite how easy he was to torment. There were more pressing matters to deal with. "So Parker, what was _so _important that you needed to tell me?"

"Nice try Lyle-" Parker spat, "you're telling me what I want to know first."

Lyle pushed himself up from where he was sitting. "Well that would be easier if you would tell me what that might be in the first place. And why should I just go spilling all my information, I don't even know if what you have is of any use to me--"

"It is." Parker interrupted. The conviction in her voice was so forceful Lyle was actually becoming a little anxious as to what she had found. He certainly hadn't managed to dredge anything up, though he hadn't had very much time either. He had also, however, been looking for surveillance tapes or memos coming out of Africa, as that had been where he thought Riley was transferred. What could possibly have happened to delay the transfer, and did it have anything to do with Parker's apparent anxiety?

"And I suppose I'm just supposed to take your word for it?"

Parker gave him an icy glare but relented. Pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation she ordered Broots to start up the DSA's and motioned for Lyle to have a closer look. She leaned against the wall, remembering the events that had led to their uncovering.

Parker had left the sub-levels after Jarod's capture, coming to take refuge in her office. Instead of the expected solace of an empty room however, she had found her other two team members. Both men had seemed relieved to find her, but their looks of joy had quickly left as she recounted what had occurred. They had been working ever since on finding the image stream linked to the cameras in Jarod's room. No such luck.

Broots licked his lips nervously as Mr. Lyle hovered behind him, waiting for the recording to boot up.

"I was um... looking for some ah... information Miss Parker wanted, and when I ran a search on recent images from the surveillance recordings, I came across this."

Lyle sent a smug look over to his sister, thinking he had a grasp on what sort of information she would have been looking for from surveillance. "Nosing into other people's business again Parker?" If he had been trying to get a rise out of her, then she disappointed him. Parker merely moved further back into the corner of her office, away from the recording. She had already seen it once, and didn't need any reminders to remember what was on it. Broots had been running a search through Raines' files, looking for any recordings from Jarod. But had instead managed to somehow stumble, as only he could, upon these. And that's when this idea came to her. If she couldn't find anything on Jarod, she would go to the one other person who was bound to know about it, and she would trade him for some information of equal value.

-

-

Riley rubbed the back of her head, wincing as she passed over the quickly forming bruise there. She rolled off of her back where she had landed and managed to crawl onto her knees. Her head spun as she looked up at the ceiling and the grate being replaced by two hands with an ease born of practice. Angelo fixed the grate to open when pressure was applied to it- he had been leading her here! The question was why? Looking down the corridor Riley saw only the regular attributes of any sublevel. Grey concrete walls and unmarked steel doors, keypads next to each one. It looked like a resident wing, the type that contained the living quarters of the pretenders at the Centre. Riley of course had never seen any of the other pretenders. But she had figured out a long time ago that there must be others. There must be occupants of the other rooms that lined the halls; there must be other subjects that worked in the other SIM labs. But she had never seen any, and it didn't really matter to her- what they did never affected her so what did it matter? There were other people here, fine.

Riley stood up slowly, shaking off the remaining dizziness and trying to figure out where to go from there. There was a faint sound coming from a room up ahead and to the left of her. She had to think for a moment before she recognized it; it sounded like... the radio she had built once. Mr. Lyle had allowed her to go up on the roof of the Facility to try it out because there wasn't any reception in the sublevels. But who in the sub-levels would have a radio? The sound was cut off by someone speaking words she couldn't quite hear, and followed by a response that sounded much closer.

"...looking into a disturbance on Sub-Level corridor..."

Riley felt her heart catch in her throat as the door to the room began opening from the inside. A dark suited sweeper stepped out, looking down the corridor in the opposite direction before turning to look directly at her. He raised his hand to his mouth and spoke into something he held there, standing with an almost baffled expression on his face.

"I have a sighting of subject #8256 on-"

Riley's legs propelled her into action before he could get anything else out and she barreled into him, knocking the radio-device out of his hand. She ducked under his arm before he could inflict any damage and grabbed the gun from the holster at his side and hit him over the back of the head with it; using all the force she could. He toppled over unconscious, but Riley doubted very much whether he would stay out for long. She shot at the camera in the corner, allowing herself the small sense of power she felt as the glass lens shattered and the wiring behind the camera sparked violently, spewing ignited bits of metal and plastic onto the floor where they died quickly. She hesitated before tucking the gun securely into place at the small of her back, resting on top of the file folder stashed there. More static issued from his communication device and Riley picked it up from the floor, trying to figure out what to do with it.

"...detain subject- use any means necessary... give us your location and we will be sending backup..."

Riley flipped a switch on the side of the radio and the voice cut out instantaneously. She handcuffed the sweeper and stole the metal key ring at his side, there weren't very many manual locks in the Centre, but these might come in handy at some point. She darted in the open door at her left with the full intention of using it to access the vents again. She didn't care what Angelo wanted her to find down here, sweepers would be flooding the corridors of SL 20 in any matter of minutes and she didn't have the time. She stopped in her tracks as she walked into the room.

Chained at either end of the bed, Jarod was laying off to the side of a barred off section of the room. He craned his head back behind him to look at her, getting an upside down view of the person that had just entered his room. His expression registered shock for a moment, but then switched to something related to caution. His expression became guarded and for the first time Riley recognized the expression she often gave people when she didn't want them prying into her thoughts and feelings. Riley ignored the man, walking over to the vent and prying loose the cover.

"That's the first place they'll look."

Riley jumped at the deep voice behind her, not having expected him to speak. She continued working on the vent cover, unscrewing the second clasp.

"I'm serious. You'll be caught in an instant if you go that way."

Riley gave up momentarily on her assault of the vent grate and turned towards the man with a scowl. "It was working just fine earlier."

Jarod shifted his position on the cot to view her better, though Riley was surprised by the fact that the man could move at all. "Well, then by all means go ahead." He said nonchalantly. Riley turned back to the grate and went back to her task, trying to get the urgency out of her mind that was insisting sweepers would be there any second. She froze as she heard Jarod speak again under his breath, just loud enough to hear. "It's your funeral."

Riley turned away from the grate for the second time and walked over to the bars, glaring at the man intensely. "What would you know about it? You're just as stuck in here as I am." She pointed out, hoping he might drop it.

"It took me nearly three months to find a way out of here Riley. And they have only gotten better at stopping escapes since that time." He said urgently, looking out past her shoulder to the open door behind her. "And all you are doing right now is wasting valuable time."

Riley gave him a calculating look. "You know one of the first things to do when trying to persuade someone of a course of action is to narrow their view of events enough that they can only see your solution?" she asked him casually, trying to ignore his last comment. "I think that you just want out of those handcuffs."

Jarod looked as though he had just been slapped. "I'm not trying to trick you Riley."

"Well, if you aren't, then maybe you should be. If only for the sake of self preservation." She responded quietly, it's what she would be doing.

Jarod turned away from her after the last statement. "The Centre really has taught you well."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Riley didn't like the bitter tone underlying Jarod's words.

"You don't trust anyone," Jarod answered here query with a question of his own, "do you?"

Riley sent him a heated glare that could rival any one of Miss Parker's. That was actually where she had first encountered the look. "I don't trust _you, _no." She spat, Mr. Raines was right- Jarod was obviously not someone she could consider a friend. It was only too obvious that he was trying to direct her emotions to serve his purposes.

"If you trust the people around here so well Riley, then why are you running?"

Riley swallowed hard as Jarod probed at one of the fears niggling away at the back of her psyche. "That's none of your business."

Jarod looked past her again out the door. "Sweepers will be coming soon. You're running out of time." He said casually.

Riley turned back to the vent with a huff but didn't even reach out to the grate this time before she heard Jarod give an exasperated sigh behind her. "I already told you that way wouldn't work."

Riley clenched her fists at her sides and tried to reign in her temper. "Fine then, if I'm doing such a horrible job finding a way out of here, then why don't you just tell me where to go? It doesn't take an idiot to follow directions after all."

Riley could see Jarod shake his head even from where he lay. "It's very doubtful that you wouldn't get lost. Genius or not, the way I'm suggesting isn't exactly on a set path."

"So what are you proposing? I let you out of this cell and you show me the way out of the Centre?" Riley asked him disbelievingly. "Nice try Jarod, but I just got you back here."

"It's a little late to be thinking about what the Centre wants from you now, isn't it?" Jarod made a furious move to sit up, but was pressed back onto the mattress by the restraints. "You've already made 99 of your escape in just deciding to leave. If they catch you now, they are going to ship you off to Triumvirate headquarters and fry your brain for so long that you won't be able to tell which way is up anymore." He told her, not bothering to find a more eloquent wording. Perhaps being blunt would penetrate her thoughts further anyway.

Riley gave a short laugh devoid of real humor. "I doubt I'll even make it to Africa." She said, not bothering to explain further. Let him wonder for all she cared. Riley reached out to the door on the barred cell and matched the key on the ring with the lock. She looked at him once more, searching his eyes. "You're positive you know a way out of here?"

Jarod returned the look earnestly. "Trust me Riley."

Riley turned the key in the lock and hurried over to unlock the chains binding him hand and foot. "Trust is something you have to earn Jarod." She told him, dropping the key ring in his lap once she was finished. He stood up, rubbing halfheartedly at his wrists, as though he didn't expect it to do much good.

"Well, I'm ready to start trying." Jarod told her, sounding hopeful. She gave him a derisive look in response. He stepped quickly out of the barred cell and made towards the door. He peered out; ready to duck back in the instant he saw a sweeper. "So partner, ready to blow this Popsicle stand?"

Riley pushed past him after seeing that there was no one coming. "We aren't partners." She told him, not looking back to meet his eyes. "I don't know what a Popsicle is. You have something I need. Period."

Jarod frowned after her. "You know, the least you could do is give me a _chance _to prove I'm a nice guy."

Riley didn't feel the remark warranted an answer. She strode mutely over to the dark form of the sweeper on the floor and checked to make sure that he was still unconscious. Jarod peered around anxiously, trying to imagine where the sweepers would be. He knew the one in his room had called in a disturbance, but he had never managed to say which floor. It would be a very bad move if Riley and he were to set off on their escape only to run right into a literal army of the black suited guards. "Wish I knew where they were..."

Riley bent down into a crouch and picked the radio up off the floor next to the sweeper. She flipped the switch at the side again and listened as it crackled to "...we're checking out SL-18...just about to go to 19, this level appears empty..."

Riley handed the radio to Jarod. "We should be able to monitor their movements through this." She told him.

"They're on the floor above us. We need to go-" He said urgently. "If they find us they'll set off alarms along the entire sub-level, and it'll go into a lockdown mode. The cameras in the room will have already caught us on tape, but those only link to Raines' office. Unless he's monitoring them right now, no one will find them for another few hours at least." He spoke all this very fast while setting off down the corridor, in the opposite direction of the elevator. Riley could tell that he was restraining himself from breaking into an all-out run as he explained things to her. As it was she was practically jogging just to keep up with his long strides. "If I tell you to run, you run as fast and as hard as you possibly can, got it? And don't stop even after you think we've lost them. Don't ever stop running, understand?" The anxiety in Jarod's voice washed over Riley's system, setting her senses on edge. Her throat felt dry and her hands were sweaty, but more than anything, she could hear her heart rushing blood past her ears in quick beats.

The radio in Jarod's hand gave off a large amount of static again, sounding like an explosion to Riley's tensed body. "This level's clear too... Sending team 4 in lower... Team's 5 and 6 covering exits upstairs..." Riley turned as the elevator at the end of the corridor gave a loud ding.

Jarod pushed her off in the direction of a hallway to their left. "Run!"

-

-

Lyle pushed himself up from where he was leaning forward over Broot's chair to watch the DSA, and noticed that the tech seemed to settle lower in his chair, the tensed posture subsiding once Lyle was out of his 'bubble'. He clapped the tech on the shoulder, making the man flinch and allowed himself an evil smile. "Relax Broots. I'm not gonna bite you." He paced away from the desk, trying to reign in his sudden need for a good stiff drink of... anything that burned going down. He restrained himself from rubbing at the bridge of his nose, conscious of the three other forms in the room and the fact that a slip in his demeanor was strictly out of the question.

"So, we know they have a termination order out on her, but what I need to know is what happened after. Your damn feed just stops with Zurbin yelling her head off at Raines. For all we know, Riley's occupying a body bag in the Centre morgue right now. I mean, Parker, that feed is almost an hour old. A lot can happen in that much time."

Parker folded her arms across her chest, taking a few steps forward. "You know, I would have been satisfied with a simple 'thank you', but you're right. Getting my ass chewed out over giving you information that you didn't even have before is _so _much better." She bit out sarcastically.

Lyle controlled the instinct to roll his eyes, though the disdain still appeared in his expression. "Don't act all high and mighty on me Parker. The only 'thank you' you expect is your information in return. You hardly decided to show me this out of the _goodness of your heart_."

Parker raised her eyebrows with a smirk. "Oh, you are smarter than you look."

"Which is still better than looking smarter than I actually am. At least in my opinion. So Parker, what do you want?" Hopefully it was something he could easily lie about. Lyle had every intention of telling her _something _about whatever it was that she wanted, but that hardly meant he was going to tell her everything. Provided of course, he did in fact know anything at all concerning what she wanted to know. If anything proved that he hadn't been in the loop for the past couple of days, that DSA had certainly been it. He needed to get away from Parker in order to look further into that... better yet, he needed to answer Parker's question in such a way that she would get Broots to look into the matter for him... appeasement could be a very good thing at times...

"What do you know about Jarod?"

Lyle cocked an eyebrow in mild confusion. "What's there to know? Monkey boy flew the coop and now I get to spend an unhealthy portion of my time chasing after him, with the company of some people who more often than not wish me nothing but ill." He gave Parker a pointed look as he finished, sitting down partially on the edge of her desk.

Parker rolled her eyes to the ceiling and walked back over to her desk. "That's bull Lyle. You cannot possibly convince me that you weren't in on the whole thing. You got your info, now I want mine."

"In on the whole _what _Parker?" Lyle asked, allowing some if his exasperation flow through his words. "I honestly don't have the foggiest--"

"-You're telling me you have no clue that Jarod is currently _in residence_ at the Centre?"

Lyle jerked up from his seat, a look of intent disbelief marring his features. Battling for prominence with the satisfied grin he was very tempted to let show. "He's here? Now? For how long-"

Parker nodded. "Trussed up like Thanksgiving turkey down on SL-20 for the past hour. You really didn't know?"

"Would I be here in your office if I did Parker?"

Parker threw her hands in the air futilely. "So this whole thing was a waste of time! Perfect."

Lyle held up his hands in defense. "Patience Parker. I don't have information right now, but I can get it."

"No. Your information gathering will take too long." Parker derailed that train of thought. "I'll just have Broots get it. Besides, I'm not even sure I can trust your informants."

"Who said anything about informants?" Lyle asked, a plan already forming in his mind. "I can get your information. And I'm sure as hell I can get it faster than Broots. At least in this scenario. Mind you, it would come at a price."

"You're joking right. You want to bargain with me over information you already owe me for?"

"Ah, but you just said I didn't have to do it anymore. You said Broots could do it." Lyle indicated the tech behind the computer, who seemed like he wanted to disappear for the moment. "I'm offering that I get you files direct from Raines' computer all about Jarod's recent acquisition. I just want a little something in return."

"I can hack into Raines' computer on my own thanks." Parker told him snidely.

"Oh _hacking_... I have no doubts in your team's abilities there... but that takes time. And you can simply never be sure that he won't find out..."

"And how else do you propose that I get 'files direct from Raines' computer'? To use your words..." Parker asked him incredulously. "It's not like I can just access his hard drive anytime I want."

"Well maybe _you_ can't. But then again, none of you all, have his password."

Parker raised a carefully penciled eyebrow. "And you do?"

Lyle slid over to the computer with a knowing smirk and began the log on sequence to access Raines' computer from the network. He didn't know very much about computers to tell the truth. Didn't trust them in the first place, he liked things on file- if a file went missing you knew about it. Computers were far too easy to gain access to. But in working within a world where people seemed to think computers were the beat-all 'best invention since the wheel', he couldn't avoid using them at times. Lyle watched it log on, smiling slyly at the password prompt. He turned his attention over to Parker.

"Tell me Parker, did you know that Raines had a wife? Has really, but it's a pity about her. She's currently spending her time in the Delaware home for the perplexed; a couplet short of a sonnet. However, before she lost her marbles, she gave the then Dr. Raines something very near and dear to him. A beautiful baby girl named..."

"Annie." Parker said with a dawning look of comprehension.

"And Bingo was his name-O." Lyle confirmed in a mock sing-song voice, typing in the password. The screen opened onto Raines desktop and Parker ambled over to take a look.

"You really do have your hands in a lot of cookie jars."

"Oh, you have no idea." He responded in a self-satisfied manner. "_Informants_... honestly Parker, I'm insulted."

Parker's rolling eyes were the only response he received.

"If the information you're looking for is anywhere, it'll be here."

"You wanted something in return, correct?"

Lyle nodded, trying to decide how to best phrase his request. "Password access is one thing, but hacking is something different entirely... you could say it isn't my specialty."

"Ah, I think I understand now." Parker finished for him. "Broots."

"Broots."

The man in question seemed to have lost all ability blink. Lyle leaned over the desk towards him. "I need you to find the feed that starts where this one leaves off." He said, tapping the DSA with his forefinger. "And I need any and all of the recent DSA's from the past few days. Anything relevant."

"And while you're looking, _I _need anything from Raines' files relating to Jarod." Parker said.

Lyle stood up to leave the room when he turned around. "Broots, find out why the Triumvirate is still in town."

Parker turned her attention away from the tech, who was already beginning his first search, and moved over to block the doorway in front of Lyle. "What exactly do you have against this... Zurbin... chick?"

"Why do you want to know Parker?"

"Oh I don't know, sensing a good story maybe."

"Oh, please." Lyle scoffed at that. "Zurbin doesn't have the good sense that God gave an animal cracker. The woman doesn't just not know anything; she doesn't even suspect much. She's made it to the top of the power structure purely through heredity and a cute little ass and no amount of ambition of her own. It just so happens that I don't have any respect for her as a human being. She's the kind of person who rips off insect antennae simply for the pleasure derived from watching them squirm."

Parker raised an eyebrow at his final comment as if she didn't think that he was much better. He continued. "She doesn't even have the courtesy to hide behind the advancement of science."

"Which is _so _much better." Parker drawled sarcastically. "You seem to know her pretty well."

"Oh we go way back." He remarked derisively. He looked back at where Broots was working on the computer. "Look Parker, take a lesson from Mom. Don't go sticking your nose into Raines' personal affairs without expecting retaliation." He said, trying to push past her out the door.

She stopped him, sending him a look of pure poison. "Don't talk to me about _my _mother."

"It's just a word of caution Parker."

Parker scoffed. "And why do you suddenly care?"

"Would you believe me if I said family?"

"No." Parker responded curtly.

Lyle shrugged and decided to humor her with a real motive. "Power base. You and I could make a great team Parker." He said with a charmed smile. The kind that allowed him to slip beneath most people's radar as a good guy. He took advantage of Parker's sudden immobilization at even the thought and stepped past her, finally managing to push out the door. Lyle was halfway out to the parking lot once more when the lights abruptly flickered out and sirens started wailing. He caught a sweeper running past by the arm and spun him around. Hardly able to hear his own words over the bellowing sirens.

"What's going on?"

"There's an escape attempt in progress Sir."

Lyle nodded his understanding before dashing off in the direction of the security rooms. He met Parker and Broots by the door, walking in after them to find Raines and Zurbin already commanding several groups of sweepers as they combed the levels, searching.

"Jarod?" he asked no one in particular.

"Lyle, so good of you to join us." Zurbin turned around to face him with a strained smile "But I'm afraid you're only partially correct. You'll never imagine who sprung him from his cell." She said with an 'I-told-you-so' air.

"Riley." He barely suppressed the urge to growl. "Perfect." he strode over to the security monitors. "Have you managed to locate which sub-level they're on?"

"The last reported sighting was on SL-20. But we haven't gotten any reports for a while." Some underling replied, a man of little consequence not worth trying to remember the name of.

"What about the lock-down process?"

"We've been working on engaging it on every sub-level. But our main focus has been on the levels above 20. They should be trying to go up and that's where we'll catch them."

-

-

Riley dashed down a corridor after Jarod, sprinting all out to keep up with his longer strides. She could see a lockdown barrier closing off at the end of the corridor, a large rounded obstacle that sealed off the passages one by one. They had just barely made it past the last two, and Riley doubted they would make this one at all. Jarod reached the door just as it slammed home against the opposite wall. Jarod let off a stream of expletives, reminding Riley of the immediate memory of Zurbin cursing at the vent shaft in the same manner. She came to a halt and took a few wary steps back from the volatile man, trying to decide if she were in any danger here.

"Dammit!" Jarod pounded on the door with his fist, venting mingled horror and frustration. "That's the only way out."

Riley scanned the small area they were trapped in; locked between the barrier behind them and the one in front. She walked over to the single door locked in the confines of the two, scanning it for any obvious defects. The sweepers would enter through this door to collect their captives. That was the best assumption she could make. Turning to Jarod she asked, "What about this way?"

Jarod shook his head in the negative. "We can't hack through the lock system, there's no keypad access, only keycards can get through."

Riley pulled the sweeper's keycard out of her waistband, "A keycard like this?"

She stepped closer to the door and pushed the card in the slot, noting the red light at the side turning to flash green.

"Where did you get that?" Jarod asked, sidling up to her. "You'd have to pry that thing from a guard's cold, dead, fingers before they gave it up."

Riley swallowed against the dryness in her throat at Jarod's choice of words. "He... wasn't using it at the time." She pushed the door open forcefully and peered down a little-used corridor that ran parallel to the one they were just in.

Jarod hurried out after her, beginning off down it one way. "This should lead us to the Centre Rehydration Core. The door will be closing there any minute!" He said, taking off at a mad sprint with Riley following.

-

-

Zurbin was issuing orders as sweepers left the room, a camera had caught sight of the two would-be escapees running off down SL-24 and they had quickly taken the hint that they needed to move their focus to locking down the lower levels over the priority of the higher ones.

"Use whatever means necessary with the female but we want Jarod alive!" She called out to the sweepers heading out of the room.

Lyle exited the office to head down to the sub-levels with the rest of them. Perhaps if he could reach Riley and Jarod before the others he could fake her death. He certainly had experience in that arena. Yes, fake her death and take her to a private facility where the research could continue under his sole direction. Riley had always been his ticket to the top, and he didn't plan on losing her now. She was never meant for the outside world! She wouldn't be able to handle it. There had been implements in her training designed for that very purpose. Riley wasn't programmed for that sort of lifestyle.

Lyle stopped the train of thought as Parker caught up behind him. "So, a shoot-to-kill order. This chick means business doesn't she?"

Lyle gave a non-committal grunt. Parker was trying to weasel into his thoughts on the matter. But if she thought he was going to break down and start screaming because of his 'emotional attachment' to the subject she was sorely mistaken. He wasn't Sydney. Riley was a good kid. And he had known her since she was a toddler. But he wasn't emotionally invested. He wasn't. She was a project, an experiment. It didn't matter.

"Why go through with the termination order anyway?" Parker continued. "I mean, two geniuses are better than one."

"Yeah, well. The Triumvirate's been trying to keep this pretty hush-hush- though I'm sure you've already had suspicions on the matter- but without the revenue Jarod used to bring in, this company has been leaking out of it's bank accounts. A ton of clients had been lined up for simulations when he left, and over half of them had paid in advance. Factor in the clients that came knocking on our door saying that our wayward pretender had sabotaged the simulations they had tried enacting. A ton of those people only just managed to avoid jail."

"I thought Jarod rigged them so they had to confess. Wouldn't those recordings come up in court?"

"Played off as under duress or some shit like that I'm sure. Still, not too many got off, and the ones that did had criminal records. They lost all respect within their community. And let's not forget about the money it costs just to run his damn pursuit. The money he steals from us- Parker the list is endless."

"Still Lyle, that doesn't explain why, if this is all Jarod's fault, it's being taken out on Riley." Parker told him, matching him step for step as they walked down the corridor. Lyle was headed in the direction of the stairs, knowing the elevators would be crammed with sweepers.

"It's being taken out on Riley, because the Triumvirate is trying to stop a problem before it escalates out of proportion. 'Nip it in the bud.' They want to dispose of her the instant she shows signs of disloyalty; Jarod was uncooperative for months before he escaped. The Triumvirate is trying to learn from its mistakes. The problem is, Riley just showed them the 'disloyalty' they have been looking for. Parker, she killed someone. And they know that if she ever got loose, the next person she goes after might be one of them. At least- that's what they think."

Parker reached out and stopped Lyle, pulling him back by his arm. "But that isn't what you think?"

"Riley has no possible motive to move against the Triumvirate. I trained her myself Parker; she thinks that the Centre is the only place that she will ever belong."

"Then why is she running Lyle?"

"She's scared." Lyle responded easily. "Hell, she's terrified."

"Well who wouldn't be," Parker said, resuming the quick pace down to the sub-levels. "If what you're saying is true then she thinks that the only place she has ever, and could ever, feel safe in is actively trying to kill her." Parker paused for a beat. "The only question is what you plan on doing when you find her." She said, giving Lyle a pointed look out of the corner of her eye.

"Well, I sure as hell don't plan on shooting her."

Lyle gave her a sidelong look as he continued down the stairs. He wanted Parker gone. He couldn't do what he wanted with her around—it would be hard enough getting Riley out of the Centre, but to have Parker watching… But watching what? He could make it seem like he was _helping her. _Score brownie points, and really smuggle Riley off to a facility somewhere. He could cover that up easily enough, and even Parker couldn't deny what she had seen with her own eyes. He hid a sly smile as ran across a landing and down another flight of stairs. It was perfect.

-

-

Riley sped through the rapidly closing door at the end of the rehydration core, actually feeling a breeze at her back as the door closed and locked.

Jarod was prying the cover off of a large access in the wall. He stuck his head in and peered up and down both ways before coming back out and looking at Riley. Riley felt herself pale as she looked in at the dark column, there was no light coming out or into the wide shaft at any point. Jarod must have noticed her discomfort.

"You aren't afraid of the dark are you?" He asked, not unkindly, though Riley couldn't help hearing accusation in his tone as she thought back to every time she had ever admitted to being scared of anything. The encounters had never met with understanding.

Riley slipped into the column, grabbing onto the ladder-like bars she found lined up next to the access. "I'm not afraid of anything."

Jarod didn't comment and Riley dropped down a few rungs to allow him to gain access to the ladder. Jarod told her to just keep going down until she hit the very bottom of the shaft. "We're in the boiler system right now. These tunnels run throughout all of the levels of the building, above and below ground. Once we reach the bottom, if we walk along for a while, we should reach a similar shaft that will take us up. It opens up right along the edge of the Blue Cove Woods." He said, climbing down, placing his feet rung by rung where her hands had occupied space moments before.

-

-

Lyle reached the bottom of the stairs that led to SL-26 and dashed off down the hall to the sewer access leading to sub level 27. Parker's stilettos clicked against the concrete floor at measured lengths behind him. How she ever managed to run in those heels Lyle would never understand. Parker pulled up to a stop next to him and looked down at the sewer entrance. "What makes you think they're in SL-27?" She asked him.

"They haven't tripped a motion sensor in the past two hours Parker. Sub-Level 27 is the only level in the Centre that doesn't have any. None of them survived being blown up... twice." He explained, momentarily thinking back to the bomb Sydney had planted in the corridor. That incident had actually been blamed on Gar; it never seemed to matter to anyone that Gar wasn't even in the corridor when it blew. Everyone had also been told that the man was dead, but no one ever questioned the fact that he kept showing up for work. Everyone knew that Sydney had done it, whether that was what had gone into the report was irrelevant. Lyle unscrewed the cover and lifted it up out of the floor. "There's more than one way out of SL-27, and if their pattern of movement continues then I'm willing to bet this is where they end up." He hopped through the hole, landing in the hollowed out floors of the Centre's deepest sublevel with a wet slap. Parker followed him in and they worked through the hallways. Flashlights sent beams of thin light through the gloom, reflecting lightly against the water on the floor left from where fire extinguishing systems in the ceiling engaged. Debris littered the floor in places, one small metal tricycle sticking out in Lyle's mind particularly. Reminding him that they were working their way through Raines' old playground.

-

-

Riley jumped the last few rungs on the ladder, landing lightly on the balls of her feet. Her arms were burning and her hands had started bleeding again, making the metal bars difficult to grasp as she had steadily headed lower. Jarod mimicked her movements, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. He strode over to another access entry and kicked it open- there was no way to unscrew it from the inside. Riley ducked through the hole, eagerly anticipating lighted corridors again, but instead walked out into an abandoned hallway that looked as though no one had entered it for a great many years. Riley's empathic senses picked up on several decades worth of layered emotions, stronger in some places than in others.

"Jarod, where are we?" she asked, turning around to face the man that had crawled out the access after her, but her companion had suddenly become very still. He made a hushing motion with his arms and Riley stifled the question she was about to ask. Jarod looked very on edge, as though straining to hear something.

"What's going on?" Riley asked in a hushed voice.

Jarod began hurrying off past her, speaking in a similarly hushed voice. "Something's wrong, someone's down here." He motioned with his hand that Riley should continue down the corridor with him, taking extra care not to make too much noise. As they walked further down- running would be noisier- Riley began to hear it too. It sounded like...

"Voices."

Jarod shook his head. "Miss Parker's high heels."

Riley could hardly see where she was stepping as she followed Jarod's black form down the hallway. She was following more the traces of emotion he left behind him than anything she could actually see or hear, but Jarod's fear was slowly mingling in her mind with the rest of the fearful emotions of pain flowing all around the corridor. Riley felt the fear in one area of the hallway spike dramatically; a seeming change in the emotional levels that Riley had only ever encountered around a living person. The emotion was emitting from an area that veered off to her left and Riley followed, thinking she was walking after Jarod. A door stood open in front of her and Riley ventured into the room warily.

She ran into something inside the room and felt a current of long-dead electricity run up her spine, sparking behind her eyes in a wave of memory that wasn't hers.

_"...no more Timmy. From now on..."_

Riley ripped her hand from whatever it was touching, feeling as though the flesh had been scalded. Burnt by an electric current. She stumbled backward out into the corridor with a strangled, but loud, cry, running into a rolling tray against the far wall. The metal contraption clattered to the ground, echoing with her scream off around the walls. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as though her very soul would escape and she looked to Jarod guiltily. He stood about ten feet away from her with a horrorstruck expression on his face. Riley listened to the sounds of running footsteps and a startled cry from up the corridor, where it twisted away down another hall.

"Listen! Did you hear that?"

"How could I not hear it Parker- It sounded like someone was being murdered!"

Jarod pulled Riley out of her state of shock, tugging her forward. "Something he would know…" He pushed her forward, "Go!"

Riley started running blindly, flashlight beams bounced along at the heels of her feet and she heard Miss Parker call out at Jarod to stop. Jarod ignored it and Riley followed suit, picking up her pace a bit to try to catch up with the man in front of her.

"Riley! Stop! That's an order!"

Riley's steps faltered before her mind even processed the decision, following the command unthinkingly as she had for every year that she could remember. She spun around to look face to face with Mr. Lyle. Miss Parker had her gun drawn though Mr. Lyle didn't. Her breathing was labored and her head spun as it tried to reach a decision.

"Riley, come here. The Centre is your home, it's the only place you're safe." Mr. Lyle reasoned, and some preprogrammed area of Riley's brain was struggling to come to the foreground. He was right- why was she running away from her home? She shouldn't be running away from the Centre. The outside world was dangerous. Why was she trying to go somewhere that was dangerous? It was illogical.

Jarod had stopped his run when she did; he hadn't made a move though as Parker's gun was trained on his chest. He didn't seem to care however, as though he doubted very much whether she would pull the trigger. His eyes were locked with the man's down the hall, a gleam of intense hatred burning there even as Lyle tried to reason with the girl he was helping escape. Riley was about convinced to come back. What she was doing was wrong; running away was wrong. She took a step forward. Her eyes were drawn past Mr. Lyle's form however as the sound of running footsteps resounded down the hall, flashlight beams appeared around the corner. Miss Zurbin and entourage appeared barely moments after. The corridor was lit with flashlight beams as she and two sweepers rounded the corner and came to a halt just behind Mr. Lyle and Miss Parker. Riley raised a hand above her face to block the lights shining in her eyes as the subtle voice in her head surrendered to the part of her mind that was really hers. Riley felt her skin pale as the African woman sent her a smug smile and looked to her sweepers.

"Shoot her!"

Riley felt a bullet whiz past her cheek, leaving a searing cut in the flesh there, but she knew that it was only a flesh wound. She pulled the gun out of its position at her back and aimed, firing three rounds within a span of five seconds, listening to the sweepers and Zurbin's muffled hisses and shrieks of surprised pain as their guns dropped out of their hands. She hadn't aimed anywhere fatal, only at their gun hands, though for all the noise of outrage Zurbin was making you'd have thought she had given her a mortal wound.

Riley turned the aim of her gun at Miss Parker "I'm giving you the option of just dropping it." She said in an apologetic tone. She was a project- she shouldn't be demanding anything out of these people. And yet, they were following orders.

Miss Parker held her gun out to her side before tossing it over in Riley's direction. Riley sent Mr. Lyle a last look. "An apology is simply never going to make this up, is it?" She swallowed, glancing down at Miss Parker's gun. Riley didn't pick it up, tossing her own gun to the floor instead before making a breakneck dash to the end of the hall; Jarod reached it first and unscrewed the access; pushing Riley through before clambering in himself. He pulled the cover up after him, blocking it off from the inside by pushing one of the pieces of old boiler equipment over in front of it. Riley listened as the people out in the corridor scrambled over to the access and she heard Mr. Lyle berate Zurbin from somewhere that sounded further away; near the back of the group.

"Funny- but she wasn't even trying to run until you decided to come along." She could hear the smirk in his voice. "And I assure you, I'll be putting _that_ into my report."

It seemed like hours later that Jarod lifted off the large metal cover at the top of the boiler access. Lifting himself out and jumping to the ground. Riley followed out mutely. Jarod had explained to her that this was where the running would begin again. Guards would be at every exit to the building, and they would be combing the grounds as well. The Blue Cove Woods were off to the south west of them, and directly to Riley's right. Riley didn't even look at Jarod as they dashed off in the direction of the dark horizon line. She hadn't said a word since entering the boiler room below.

She ran full out for what felt like miles, dodging in between trees and watching out for the raised roots in the ground that Jarod had warned her against. Her legs were burning, protesting every bound forward with a shock of agony. Her chest felt as though it was on fire, and she had long forgotten the feel of cold air rushing into her lungs- she felt as though they had gone numb. Sweat blurred her vision and stung at her eyes, and her hands were trembling even as she pumped her arms in rhythm with her strides. Dancing light beams chased her through the night, mingled with the shouts of sweepers as they combed the grounds, though they never managed to get close enough to catch her. Every time she heard footsteps behind her she would speed up, running with renewed vigor. Forcing herself to press forward with the memory of Miss Zurbin's voice down in the tunnel.

_"Shoot her!"_

Her feet pounded against the grass, slipping in the dirt and mud. Thousands of foreign smells and sensations assailed her, but she was going far too fast to analyze any of them. New ones popped up to take other's places as she sped past each one with rapid movements that made them blur in her mind. Crisp night air pushed her hair off her sweaty forehead as she pressed ever forward. Darkness like one she had never known before smothered her- pressed in on every side like a swaddling blanket; twisted tightly when you woke up from a nightmare. This darkness lasted forever, it didn't stop at a ceiling, and florescent bulbs would not flicker into life with the press of a button or flip of a switch. The only sources of any light in this darkness were the stars above her, and the moon shining through layers of cloud cover. Its light hung in blankets in the sky, but never reached the ground. The turf was springy beneath her step, and the dew on the grass soaked though her canvas shoes and tickled at the skin above them; a band that ran around her ankle, just below her pants. The world she was passing through felt completely foreign.

Jarod veered sharply to the right in front of her, jumping inside a black automobile and turning the key in the ignition. Riley catapulted in the open door on her side, sitting in the seat as Jarod reached across her to close it. He pressed a button on the side of his armrest and Riley heard the locks click into place automatically.

The vehicle pealed away from the Centre with screeching tires, running along grass and ducking between trees as Jarod maneuvered it expertly. It bumped onto the road jarringly, and Riley threw her arms out against the dashboard to avoid being thrown form her seat.

"Are you alright?" Jarod asked, unable to take his eyes from the road or stop for the headlights Riley could see catching up behind them. "Try putting on your seatbelt." He suggested, tugging at the length of flat cord running along his chest. Riley felt for the cord hanging beside her curiously, clicking the metal end into place at the receptacle next to her.

The trip proceeded in silence even after the sweepers had long given up chase.

Jarod looked over to the girl next to him in concern. Her back was straight against the seat, as though an iron rod had been inserted next to her spine. Her eyes faced forwards, never leaving the twin pools of light cast in front of the car. Her knuckles were white where they gripped the armrest. Jarod reached into the backseat for his leather jacket and draped it over her wiry frame.

"Try to get some sleep. You're safe here."

Riley nodded but didn't close her eyes. She couldn't possibly be safe here.

_Mr. Lyle knelt down next to the bed, sitting across from the trembling six year old girl in front of him. Riley hugged her knees to her chest tighter, blinking her eyes against the fatigue niggling away at the far corner of her psyche._

_"Riley you haven't slept in three days. You need to go to bed." Mr. Lyle reasoned, tugging the cotton blanket out of her grasp._

_Riley shook her head in the negative. "I don't wanna sleep, I wanna go with you." She pleaded, her words slurring together slightly as she tried to suppress an exhausted yawn._

_"You can't come with me Riley, I'm going home. **I'm** going to bed." He said, picking her up and laying her back down on the mattress, pulling the covers up to her chin. "Riley, why are you so scared to go to sleep?"_

_"There are monsters in my room."_

_"Riley, who told **you**_ _about monsters?" Mr. Lyle asked her, his voice going hard._

_Riley didn't look at him, playing with a loose thread on her blanket. "Nobody."_

_"And just what did 'Nobody' say about monsters?"_

_"They live under my bed."_

_"Heh. Okay, come here." He said, plucking her out from between the sheets and setting her down on the floor. He crawled down next to her, sinking to his hands and knees as they peered beneath the cot. "Riley, if monsters live under your bed, where are they?" he asked, indicating the empty space between the concrete floor and the bare bed springs holding up the mattress._

_"He said they were invisible." She told him matter of factly._

_"Riley, there is no reported evidence of any physical object ever being proven invisible, it would follow that the monsters that presumably live under your bed cannot be invisible either." He said, trying to allay her fears with logic._

_"Oh, I don't believe him that they're invisible." Riley told him. "They just vibrate at a faster frequency than we do. That's why we can't see them."_

_"That's it Riley. I'm not indulging these fantasies any longer." He said, picking her up once again and depositing her on the bed. "There's no such thing as monsters. They don't exist outside the realm of **fiction**."_

_"Yes there are!" Riley argued the point further, stubbornly fighting him as she had for the past three days. "They come out after **you** leave!"_

_"No Riley, you mean they come out after **you** fall asleep." He tapped her forehead lightly. "They are figments of your imagination. They can't hurt you."_

_"But they're scary. They're really, really, really, scary."_

_"It's just a nightmare Riley. A bad dream. It isn't real."_

_"But the monsters are really real when I'm awake. I see them all the time." _

_"For the last time Riley, monsters aren't r-"_

_"**You** aren't a monster. I don't have bad dreams about you. But everybody else is a monster! And they wanna do** bad** things!" She cried, tugging her knees up to her chest again and hugging them tightly. She had to make him understand. The monsters were real; maybe not the ones that 'nobody' had talked about, but the ones that scared her even as she was awake were very much real entities. _

_"Riley, this your room, and this is your bed. You are safe here. This is your **home**; you will always be safe here. No one wants to do bad things to you here." Mr. Lyle tugged the covers back up to her chin for the final time that night. "The monsters can't get you- you're safe. _**You are safe here**. _Do you believe me?" _

_She gave him a hesitant nod because she knew it was what he wanted. He smoothed the covers out over he small body. "Good. Because you know I never lie to you. Now go to sleep. Big day tomorrow." _

_Riley watched him leave the room, feeling the smallest bit safer. Mr. Lyle said she was safe, Mr. Lyle would know that... Riley listened through the door as the man paused to talk with the sweeper outside._

_Lyle stopped outside of the young girl's cell, sending a glance back at her through the slit in the door. He turned to continue down the hallway, but paused again as he heard the sweeper outside the door snigger as he passed._

_"Yur kid's not afraid of the boogeyman, is she?" The man asked, obviously trying not to show the amused grin spreading across his face. _

_Lyle stepped closer to the guard, who seemed to realize that he should have kept his mouth shut. _

_"No," Lyle replied casually, luring the guard into a false relaxation. "Not of the **boogeyman**." He paused for a moment before moving ever closer to the guard, who tensed up once again. "Tell 'Nobody' that I'll cut out his tongue and feed it back to him the next time he decides to go spewing his mouth off." The sweeper swallowed hard, nodding his head emphatically as he watched Lyle walk away, looking afraid to open his mouth._

_Riley sat on her bed and stared after Mr. Lyle as he walked down the hall, smiling to herself as she pulled the coverlet up past her head and hunkered down under the blanket to go to sleep. **Now**, she was safe here._

Riley's hand clenched tightly around the edge of the jacket as she tried to shake off the memory, leaning her head against the cool window and watching the world go by in a never-ending stretch of darkness. She couldn't sleep here. It wasn't safe here. Not for her.


	22. Chapter 22: Part IV

**_Hall's Law: anyone who isn't paranoid simply isn't paying attention._ **

William Raines was an exceptionally reserved man. The sweeper at his side had never once seen him lose his composure. He was always in control, always poised to maneuver through the politics of the Centre unscathed, ever ready to set things in motion. He knew a person's actions before they even occurred, and he always knew how to react accordingly. This night was no different, indeed, when Willie had told the man that their wayward pretender had called Mr. Lyle's office (repeatedly), he had nodded his head in agreement as though he had expected nothing less. They passed the secretary out in front of Mr. Lyle's office, and she hurriedly scrambled out from behind her desk to catch up with the two men, talking a mile a minute as she tried to explain.

"I tried calling your office sir, but you had already left. It's the girl, she's been calling once every five minutes for the past half-hour demanding Mr. Lyle."

Raines only nodded in acknowledgment of the information as he passed through the doors to Mr. Lyle's office. Willie silently took up a post outside the door after shooing away the secretary. It didn't need to be said that this conversation was privileged, and neither he, nor the young Asian girl, were quite privileged enough to be a party to it.

On the other side of the door, Raines sat down at Mr. Lyle's desk; he turned on the computer, adjusted the monitor, took a jaded look at his watch and waited for the next call.

-

-

Riley watched as the call patched through for the fifteenth time that hour. Will and Riley had gotten the Major and Jarod out of the house rather easily, by having Riley imbibe a bottle of ipecac and faking a fever (it was easy enough to hold up the thermometer to her flashlight while Major Charles went in search of some medicine.) No medication was to be found of course, as earlier the day before, Will and she had gone through every nook and cranny of the house. They had found two partially filled bottles of Aspirin, a bottle of something called Nyquil, a pink bottle of Pepto Bismol that Riley recognized as something Miss Parker took occasionally, and some Tylenol gel-caps. All of which they had promptly thrown in the trash.

Jarod and the Major were now driving to the closest town, a good 15 miles away, in order to fill the prescription that Jarod had forged earlier that day. Riley hoped that the torrential rain pouring down outside might encourage them to drive slower than normal, as it had already caused Jarod to decide to go with his father to the town, rather than leave the older man to navigate the slick roads on his own.

They had left over half an hour ago. She was running out of time.

Will appeared in the doorway for a moment, wearing a questioning look on his face. "Have you managed to speak to anyone yet?"

Riley shook her head in the negative with a frustrated sigh. "I'm beginning t-to think this isn't going to work." Part of her hoped it might not. She had disobeyed; she had run away; she had broken the biggest taboo that had ever existed in her drab little world. Whoever picked up from the other end of the line was bound to be furious with her. She was going to be in terrible trouble.

"Jarod and Major Charles could be back any time now. If you keep trying, make sure you can get off the line quick." Will cautioned her, giving a slightly worried look out the window, as though he expected headlights to show up at the end of the driveway at any moment. "I'll go keep a lookout." He said, moving off into the back bedroom, her room, which had the best view of the front of the house.

Turning back to the computer Riley could see that the machine had made it through almost all of Jarod's numerous encryptions and reroutes. It gave off a happy beep at the end of this process and Riley could hear ringing on the other end of the line. She was almost surprised when, halfway through the second ring, the person on the other end finally answered.

-

-

The girl looked surprised to see him, terrified to see him, and yet desperately hopeful in spite of this. _Good_.

"M-Mr. Raines I-"

He held up a hand to halt her explanations and she broke off mid-sentence, looking as though she wanted to continue but knew better than to disobey him. He scanned her appearance, her eyes had dark circles beneath them as though she hadn't been sleeping, and she was shivering, she might have a slight fever. She coughed as he was looking at her, and it sounded as though she had contracted some kind of chest cold. Raines had suspected her immune system would fail easily, but he hadn't anticipated for it to happen this soon. Riley was never meant to live outside Centre influence, and her sheltered life was taking its own toll on her now.

She was sitting cross-legged, as was her habit, in a computer chair. The clock behind her read 8:15pm, two hours earlier than the current time in Delaware. Mountain Time then, that certainly narrowed down the search. Her eyes had dropped to the floor after his silent admonition earlier and now she peered timidly out from the curtain of hair that shadowed her face. She knew she was in the wrong here, knew that she was currently in the most trouble she had ever been in her life. Despite this, she would rather be _home _and in trouble than elsewhere and not, just as they had always programmed her to be.

"You've upset a lot of people here Riley." He growled, the sibilant hiss of his words having a marked affect on the pretender, cutting her down as though he had doled out a physical blow.

"I-I'm sorry Sir," She murmured quietly, head still turned to the floor, "I, I didn't mean to—

"You disobeyed a direct order. _You ran away Riley_."

"I... I'm sorry Sir. But Miss Zurbin—"

"I understand; you thought you were doing the best thing under the circumstances Riley." He commiserated with her, "Though that does not condone the action." He told her sternly. On the other end of the line, Riley hunkered down in her seat, as though doing so would protect her from Mr. Raines harsh words. She had known she would be in trouble, but she had not imagined that his disapproving tone would be able to hurt her quite this much.

"I'm sorry Sir." She couldn't think of anything more to do than apologize.

"Your project belongs directly to me Riley, and you should know, that as such I would have had the opportunity to defend your actions in the Renewal wing in front of the board members." He paused for a breath, and Riley quelled under his disappointed gaze. "One woman's paranoid ramblings are not enough to terminate a project with as much potential as you." He told her. "Having you run away afterwards though Riley, does very little to help me prove that your project is a _worthwhile endeavor_."

She slouched down further in her seat. _How could she have been so stupid? Of course there would be an appeal process._

"C-Can you still pull the termination directive off, Sir?" She asked him quietly, almost hopeless of ever being able to come back home.

She listened as he gave a frustrated sigh. "Yes, I can." He told her shortly. "Though doing so may take a bit of a show of faith from you."

"Like what?" She asked him timidly.

"We'll come to that later Riley. There are some things I need to know first."

Riley straightened up tentatively in her seat, now that he no longer sounded angry, only irritated.

"The night in the Renewal Wing Riley, have you been tempted to kill anyone since that night?"

Riley's hopes were dashed again at that question. Killing the sweeper in the Renewal wing had gotten her into this mess, what would happen if she admitted that she _had_ wanted to kill again?

"I-I just want to come home Sir. P-Please--"

"That doesn't answer my question Riley." Mr. Raines sounded annoyed. "Have you been tempted—"

"Y-Yes" She realized a second too late that she had interrupted the man, but he seemed to ignore her rudeness for once in her life, possibly, because there was nothing he could do about it from roughly 1,517 miles away. She looked at him timidly, "You, You aren't going to tell anyone, are you Sir?"

"No." a wave of relief flooded over her at the answer. "No Riley, it would be best if that were kept between you and me." He said, "But I need to know, did you act on that urge?"

Riley latched onto the possible way to redeem herself quickly. "No. I—"

He held up a hand before her explanation though, posing another question. "Why not?"

She thought back, looking at Will down at the lake-bed, and the utter feeling of terror that welled up in her chest. "I-I thought you would be angry Sir."

He gave something of a noncommittal noise on the other end of the line as he watched her. She obviously didn't realize it, he thought, but her answers had been perfect, just as she had been taught. She had wanted to act on the emotions she must have been feeling, but she managed to restrain herself because she didn't have his permission. _Perfect_. "It's good to see you decided to _think_ before acting for a change then."

Riley slipped down further into her seat again. She had thought his verbal chastisement might have been over, now it didn't seem to be. This was not how she had wanted the conversation to go. She had wanted to find a way to get the Triumvirate to back off Mr. Lyle. She had wanted to find a way back home, but even that didn't seem to be going very well.

Raines watched as she gave him a timid look from her seat, biting her lip thoughtfully as though deliberating with herself.

"W-When can I come home Sir? How long until you can have the termination order withdrawn?" She asked him.

"In light of your recent string of disobedient behavior Riley, it could be very difficult to have that directive cancelled this quickly." He paused for a breath, watching her spirits sink slowly at his response. "Not without negotiating some kind of a deal."

She looked up at him, hope etched across her face plainly. "What if I tell them I know where Jarod is?" She offered quickly, "I, I can give them his exact location Sir."

Raines felt smug at Riley's easy bid to betray her own rescuer. She would do anything for them, anything to come home. Of course, the Triumvirate had expected to find the two pretenders together. The Centre had known that if they were to find her, they would find Jarod; the two pretenders had escaped together, and Jarod was not the type to abandon Riley afterwards. It was hardly a surprise to find that Riley knew exactly where he was. "Jarod's location may not be enough Riley. The Triumvirate expects you to tell them his location regardless. Once they have him back, your existence will once again be... obsolete... in their eyes." He told her. "In order to fully revoke the order, you will have to prove to them that they _need _you here. I would have to be able to promise them something more."

He watched as she bit her lip. She was hesitating; he could see her weighing her options. He knew that she was withholding information from him; Riley was not naïve when it came to bargaining—she had been watching Lyle and himself as they worked for the greater part of her life. He would almost feel disappointed if she had not used those skills she had picked up. Mind, the fact that she didn't trust him enough to give him all of her information right from the off was a bad sign. "I," she paused again, deliberating internally. "I know where Jarod's father is as well." She told him quietly.

"And is there anything else?"

She was chewing her lip again, hesitating from telling him what she knew, again.

"I, I don't—"

"You know you aren't supposed to lie to me Riley." He growled threateningly, and she seemed to shrink fractionally further down into her chair. He watched as she gave a worried glance over her shoulder at the closed door to the room before twisting back around.

"G-Gemini Sir. He's here too." She told him quietly, her gaze once again falling to rest on the floor. The computer chair she was sitting in swiveled slightly from side to side and he could tell that she was fidgeting beneath the desk. It was always so easy to tell when she was feeling anxious or guilty, never mind that she _should not_ be feeling either about this. He watched as she continued to squirm under his gaze.

"Something on your mind, Riley?" The growled inquiry should have alerted her to his frustration with her behavior, but it made little difference in her answer.

"I... Sir, H-He's nothing like Jarod, and, and I don't think—"

Riley knew what would happen to Jarod and his ill-fated companions once they returned to their proper home. Raines could recall her asking the question the very day she had learned of the assignment. And now she was trying to protect the boy from the same treatment. She had managed to attain friendship in someone her own age for the first time in her life and now she was being led by some misguided sense of loyalty. He would have to stop this now. "He is insubordinate, Riley. And whatever friendship you've managed to build with him ends now-- tonight."

Her head snapped up with an expression of disbelief written plainly across it. "B-But Sir... It isn't like that! He's not—and running away wasn't even his idea! That was Jarod—"

"This is not a time to argue with me Riley." Raines snarled at her. "He lacks the sense of loyalty you have for the Centre; otherwise he would have tried to turn himself in months ago. He is _obviously_ a bad influence."

"B-But Sir— He's just angry! Jarod, Jarod told him that you..."

"Jarod sticks his nose where it doesn't belong, entirely too often."

"You made him believe that, that his parents— and for that matter, why didn't you tell _me_?"

"What?" He ground out, fury evident on his face at her rebelliousness. For once in her life, she didn't heed the warning.

She stood up from her seat with an angry energy. "What? You don't think my..." she swallowed visibly, "_origin..._ is any of my business?" She asked him incredulously, "_I had a right to know_!"

"I would stop there if I were you Riley... You're beginning to make me think that you require some _reeducation _as well."

The anger behind her eyes clashed with fear and she sank back down into her seat, jaw clenched shut in unvoiced anger.

"We will talk about this once you return home." He told her firmly. "In the meantime your disrespect will not be tolerated. You seem to have forgotten easily how the Centre provided you from birth with a safe home, away from the danger in the rest of the world Riley. This behavior is some way to repay that gesture."

Riley wanted to argue that that wasn't fair. But she felt stirrings of guilt in her stomach despite this. He was right. He was always right. "I apologize for my behavior Sir. It was unwarranted." She said quietly, eyes directed down toward the floor. Shoulders sagging slightly as whatever fight she had in her collapsed completely.

"The Triumvirate will be pleased with your information Riley." He told her.

"We can use The Major against Jarod in order to ensure his cooperation Sir. I've simulated all the possibilities." She said quietly, still not meeting his eyes.

Raines nodded at the information. It was good to see that she had managed to think about this matter fully before attempting contact with them.

"S-Sir?" she asked him cautiously, bringing her eyes up tentatively to meet his gaze. He nodded for her to proceed with her question. It wouldn't do to cause her to withdraw from his hostility before she had given him her location.

She swallowed, and then proceeded in a slightly more confident manner. "Before I tell them anything, I need to know that the Triumvirate will drop all charges on Mr. Lyle, Sir."

It surprised him to find that she knew about the current state of affairs in the Centre. Of course, he couldn't agree. If Lyle resumed his job at the Centre, Raines would no longer be the sole mentor in Riley's program.

"I'm not sure that that is possible Riley," He told her, "Mr. Lyle is under review by the Triumvirate for—"

Raines cut off halfway through his sentence as the doors to the office opened at that moment, giving way to a large African man. Riley watched his entrance with some trepidation, the idea of dealing directly with the Triumvirate very nearly made her nauseous. The newcomer wore a dark suit, set off by a brightly colored sash worn over one shoulder that reminded her distinctly of Miss Zurbin's vibrant dress. His head was utterly bald, and the lights in the room actually reflected dully off the top. Riley caught a glint of gold around his wrist, which glimmered and revealed itself to be a wristwatch. There was a dim scar running across his nose, as though a pair of glasses had cut into the skin there. Mr. Raines appeared to be as surprised as she was by the burly man's entrance into the room, an occurrence that she could not remember having ever witnessed before; in her experience, nothing surprised Mr. Raines.

Mr. Raines stood up quickly at the big man's entrance and directed him over to a far corner of the room, not bothering to excuse himself from the conversation he had been having with Riley. Riley watched him go with a slight tingle of frustration, as he maneuvered the man across the room and out of her hearing range.

"I was just notified that your pretender contacted us Mr. Raines, over half an hour ago. Why was the Triumvirate not advised of this sooner?" His gritty voice grated against the ears when he spoke, and black eyes seemed to bore holes in the person he aimed his glare at.

"I felt it necessary to assess the situation with the girl before bringing in the Triumvirate." Raines lied easily, "She is more likely to be open around a person whom she knows." He told the man, who continued glaring, though did not press further. Raines would find himself in trouble over this later, though it was best if the two men did not argue the point between themselves here in front of the subject, never mind that they were out of her earshot.

"And does she wish to return to the Centre, as you anticipated?" He asked Raines.

"The subject is willing to bargain for the termination order to be revoked in exchange for the locations of Jarod and Major Charles." Raines wouldn't mention Gemini yet... better to wait for that until he was sure he would have complete control over the project. He couldn't allow the Triumvirate to try to give him over to Sydney again.

The African man nodded in answer, the directive was a simple matter at this point. Raines had been allowed to speak in front of the Triumvirate in Africa over a week before, and the order had actually been cancelled then. Zurbin wasn't pleased. Several of the board members weren't, actually, and he personally worried that some minor coup d'état within the upper stratum might not run its course through them, but for the time being, the girl was safe from any danger, exempting herself. It had been decided that the girl would not be notified of this change in her status, so that they could use the knowledge to their advantage should a communication such as this occur.

The bulky man walked back over to the computer screen where the video phone conversation was taking place. "I understand you're willing to trade the locations of Jarod and his father in return for a full pardon, from us. Correct?" He spoke directly to the pretender, and though she seemed a little surprised by the interaction, she hid most of her bewilderment well.

She nodded at him cautiously, "Y-yes, and in exchange for, for another thing."

"Oh?"

"I want all charges against Mr. Lyle dropped. Today." She told him forcefully, and he could see this would be one issue the child would not budge on. Having been Mr. Lyle's interviewer for the past seven days or more, he had actually anticipated this particular demand. He would have felt something was wrong had it not made its way into the bargain.

"I believe we can manage that." He told her. This was the truth actually, the board had reached the decision earlier in the evening that Mr. Lyle was innocent of the charges brought against him. The man had yet to be notified, but he had actually been cleared for the past hour.

He noticed the old dog Raines seemed to tense next to him at this statement, as though raising bristling hackles, but he ignored it. Raines must recognize the fact that now with Mr. Lyle found blameless, he would return to his former position within the corporation. Raines would no longer be the sole mentor within the girl's program.

In his own oh-so-humble opinion that situation could not possibly be better. He had been witness to the debacle that Raines had called a simulation, bringing the terrified teenager in front of the Triumvirate, thinking that would compel her to find their AWOL pretender more quickly. If it had not been for Lyle's timely appearance the elder man would have only ended up embarrassing himself further than he already had.

Having been a senior member of the Triumvirate review board for the greater portion of his career within the company, he had been present through most of Raines' many evaluations. He had seen how most of his less scrupulous projects turned out, and had hardly approved of his recent proposal to enact another on this girl, his youngest subject. Engendering sociopathic tendencies within such a lucrative subject seemed to him, such a waste. Watching him with the girl, the African man found he much preferred Lyle's dynamic way of dealing with the subject to Raines heavy-handedness, and could recognize the profound difference between their results.

Of course, Zurbin and her allies, when he had taken his stand on the matter, jumped at the opportunity to oppose him. Little did any one of them know it, but Raines, Lyle, and this girl, were caught in the middle of a desperate tug-of-war occurring within the Triumvirate outfit. Whoever won would decide their fate, and that was a pretty pawn to have in this chess game they were playing. He, naturally, wanted this particular battle to go in his favor, and so it was imperative that the girl give him her information before Zurbin caught on.

"Now I need you to tell me where you are." He directed at the child, who nodded in acknowledgment of the statement. She began keying in figures on her end of the line, speaking as she typed.

"I can give you my present location, but we might not still be here when you arrive. J-Jarod plans on us leaving in the morning. I-I don't know where we're going, but I have a list of addresses that I know The Major stays in regularly." She told them quickly, eyeing Raines nervously when she told them that they may no longer be there. That piece of news was unfortunate, but it was still more than Zurbin had, which was always good news in his mind.

"I'm sending you the locations now."

The girl hit the return button when she finished typing, then the video connection cut out suddenly. He wondered at her rudeness for a moment, the audacity to hang up on a member of the Triumvirate, which he did not believe was her typical behavior, when the computer sounded a delighted little hum before a blinking icon in the corner of the screen appeared. Apparently, he had mail.

-

-

"Have you intercepted it yet?"

The technician jumped slightly in his seat at her hard tone, before bearing down on the keyboard again and typing faster. "I've almost gotten the full document ma'am," He told her without looking around, "just one moment."

Zurbin took off the headphones she was wearing, and moved away from the bank of recorders taping the conversation taking place presently in Mr. Lyle's office.

It was bad enough that she and her supporters had been outvoted when it came to the thumbless man's guilt, but she would not be beaten again. The printer began spitting out the sheet of paper with all of the locations the girl had typed out for Raines and her own Triumvirate compatriot. There it was; 5907 Sterling Place, Crested Butte, Colorado. Zurbin moved over to the phone with a triumphant little smile and picked up the receiver, fingering the bandage wrapped around her gun hand and pushing the button for a line out, she rapidly dialed the series of digits that would call the Centre landing strip.

"Yes, I need the jet readied for a flight to the closest airstrip in the vicinity of a _Crested Butte,_ Colorado." She told the attendant that picked up the phone, who said something entirely forgettable in argument, something along the lines of "the pilot has gone home for the night," or some such nonsense. It really mattered little to Zurbin, for with a few more well placed words, she had the captain roused and well onto his way to work for the night. She also had a sweeper team in Denver dispatched to the address listed on the paper, waiting for her arrival. Not a one of them would move on the house until she got there, she made sure; this capture would be hers alone. She would dispose of the girl, and she would bring Jarod back to the Triumvirate station in Africa. His little clone boy would be along for the ride as well.

"Mr. Raines and anyone with him is to be detained if they try to board a flight on the Centre tarmac, am I making myself plain?" She directed at the attendant on the other end of the line, who swallowed audibly in response while choking out yet another nonsensical argument, which Zurbin worked through with several more choice words. It was so easy getting what one wanted when one held pitiful lives in one's hand like putty.

-

-

Riley spun around in her chair after exiting from the video phone application quickly, listening intently to the footsteps hurrying down the hall. Will rushed in a moment later, moving past her and over to the window. He creaked open the blinds and she could clearly see the headlights coming over the steep turn up at the head of the drive.

"They got back quick." He commented.

Riley agreed silently. It figured that Jarod wouldn't allow a small storm to slow him down. The pair watched Jarod and the Major step from the car and lope up the porch steps to come in out of the rain. Riley headed back into her bedroom and was already under the covers by the time she heard the front door unlatch and open. When the major entered the bedroom seconds later to check on her, he opened the door to find Riley seemingly asleep, with her back turned to the opening.

He wouldn't disturb the girl; not when she had finally managed to get some sleep. She could take the prescription in the morning.

-

-

He met Will in the hall as the boy exited his room, clad in pajamas and his hair tousled as though he too had been asleep.

"Looks like you made an early night of it." He commented in passing. Will nodded at him sleepily.

"Oh yeah," He said in a groggy sort of mumble, struggling past a yawn, "We've both been asleep since you left."

-

-

Lyle was once again catching some much-needed rest with his head laid out across his arm, when the sound of highly polished shoes clicking against concrete floors roused him from slumber. He jerked his head off his arm, rubbing the sluggish look out of his eyes with the heels of his hands and straightened his tie, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. Nothing more than a long shower and change of clothes would really make him presentable any longer, but he fixed his appearance up out of habit anyways. The large African man, his only contact for the better part of seven or eight days (he really wasn't sure which anymore), walked through the doorway. Lyle had not really expected anyone else.

The man carried a thick manila folder under his arm, and looked as though he, for one, had managed to obtain a satisfactory amount of sleep over the last week. Of course, it helped when you had a _bed_. The man started pouring them drinks from a tray set off on the other end of the table, and Lyle had to wonder how in hell he had not noticed it yet. It must have been brought in here while he had been sleeping. Lyle took the proffered drink without comment. His watch only read ten-thirty, but the damn thing was analog, and with no windows to track the daylight by, Lyle wasn't really sure whether it was ten in the morning, or at night. He hadn't really slept in the past week anyways, so Lyle didn't consider it drinking before noon. It was high grade alcohol and burned the back of his throat when he swallowed. The African man slapped the manila folder down on the table in front of them both and pushed it over in front of Lyle, who sent him a questioning look before flipping it open to peruse the contents.

"It is the entire written report of our conversations, as well as the conference between the Triumvirate board members." The man told him as he read. "You might take careful note of who to look out for in the future Mr. Lyle."

Lyle heeded the warning, looking over some of the snide remarks made by Zurbin during the meeting.

"In the meantime, I feel it is your place to know; the termination directive has been rescinded, your pretender contacted us roughly a quarter of an hour ago, and gave us her location. I believe Mr. Raines is on his way to collect her as we speak."

Lyle held up a hand to pause the man's speech. "_My _pretender?"

"Well I did assume that you would like to take up your old position here, once the subject is returned."

"Of course, but_ I_ did expect a bit of a fight on that." Lyle told him bluntly, too tired to think of a better way of saying it, or perhaps not saying it at all.

The large man looked ready to roll his eyes, except that the gesture would not be nearly dignified enough for him to pull it off. Instead he gestured towards the report with one hand, and took a swig from his drink. "Might I suggest you continue reading?" Taking the last swallow from his drink the man set his glass down with a muffled thud on the table and looked at his watch. "Well, Mr. Lyle. I'm certain you would like to go home, and I am certain that _I _have better things to be doing." With that he turned on his heel and left the room, the sweepers outside the door following suit. Lyle stood and watched them leave. The words "you're free to go." would have sounded more appropriate.

-

-

Riley woke early that morning, padding around the house anxiously in her socks. She watched as the morning dawned slowly in a lightening of the gray sky by a few shades, the sort of morning that lasted all afternoon and straight on into evening without any change. It looked as though it would start raining again that day. It all mattered little to Riley. She was going _home_ today. She was going home and she was going to fix things back to the way they were before. No more Jarod, no more overlapping simulations, and no more problems; everything would be as it had been before.

If the Centre made it here in time.

She thought they would. She _hoped_ they would. But as Jarod roused himself an hour after Riley, and began packing his things diligently into a suitcase, and as Will and the Major both woke and began following suit, and sweepers had not yet arrived, it seemed to Riley that all of her planning had been for naught. She had nothing to pack; nothing she wanted to take with her to their next hideout. She spent the morning hunkered down atop one of the boxes in the garage, never fully giving up on the thought that the Centre would show up. After all, the Centre had a private jet, they could make the trip out to the closest airport in a matter of hours, and then it was just a short drive here, only an hour or more. But it was seven o'clock in the morning, and she had called in at ten o'clock the night before, and they still weren't there yet.

While she had been laying her plans, and still factoring in a need to escape the Triumvirate's grasp so long as there was a price on her head, Riley had calculated the probability of their reaching the house before its occupants had left. The figures had been high enough for her to be worried that sweepers would arrive before they had left. It was high enough. And the Centre knew exactly where they were, they hadn't had to go looking for a trace on the phone line, and they hadn't needed to chase loose ended clues to find them. That should have cut off a great deal from the time it would take to reach Colorado from Delaware. They would get here. They _had _to get here. Soon.

What if the Triumvirate showed up as well? It was unlikely, from her knowledge of Triumvirate dealings, that any member of their group would stoop to the position of captor. It would seem too degrading. But then, Riley's dealings with the Triumvirate as of late didn't follow any of the stereotypical ideals she had in her head before either. The man from the night before might come. It had taken the better part of the night for her to remember, but she recognized him. He had been a member of the review board she had stood in front of as a young child, the week after her run from the facility. He had stood at the back of a group of older adults; fairly young in comparison to the rest of them, in his early thirties perhaps while the others all seemed to be over the age of forty-five. She had stood, a scared child, hiding slightly behind Mr. Lyle's leg and holding his hand as she had been berated again and again by people she had never even met before. The young African man at the back of the party had caught her attention because he was the only one in the group that didn't appear to be blaming her alone for the escape attempt. In fact, of the five questions he posed through the duration of the two hour conference, four had been directed at Mr. Raines, and one at Mr. Lyle. And at the end of the ordeal, as he was passing out of the room, he had winked at her. Riley felt slightly reassured knowing that he was on the review board still, and had been one of the people handling her most recent escape.

She had to wonder what would happen when they did show up. Jarod and the Major would probably be sedated to keep them out of trouble. Will wouldn't be considered a threat, at sixteen he was still too young to be able to take on a Centre sweeper and win; he would be handcuffed, but probably kept conscious. If it was Mr. Raines heading up the sweeper team, then Will would most likely have the delight of sitting through the man's displeasure on the car ride to the plane, and then probably through the entire plane ride back home. She did not envy him the position, but it was his own fault for not calling the Centre himself. Riley would probably be in a similar condition; especially if Mr. Lyle came along. She and Will would not be placed together for the trip back, she knew, for fear of idle minds gravitating towards one another and getting into some sort of trouble; but she also knew that she would not escape the plane ride without receiving some of Mr. Raines' undue attention.

Will would never forgive her for this. He would never trust her again, and she could just imagine him glaring at her through the plane ride, fuming silently in his seat. Some sweeper would make a snide comment about it, either to him or to her, and she'd probably end up looking out the window for the duration of the journey, trying to avoid his eyes. She was doing the right thing, and it was in his best interest; he would understand that in time. They were never meant for the outside world.

Riley hopped down from her box restlessly and went over to check the small digital clock Will had set up over in the corner of the garage. The luminescent red markers pronounced that it was 7:15 in the morning. Walking hesitantly over to the bank of windows set into the top of the garage door, Riley lifted up the improvised blind from one and stood on tiptoe to peer out of it. Just looking outside at the scenery made her heart race but she ignored the tremor of fear clenching in her gut. She swept the landscape, looking for the familiar Centre-issue Towncars, but didn't find any. She dropped the blind with a huff of disappointment and resumed her seat on her box. Jarod had said they would leave at eight o'clock. The Centre had less than an hour.

Riley snapped out of a bored reverie with a jerk, some time later, listening to the muffled sounds of a conversation she could hear through the wall of the garage. Slipping off her box silently and out the side door to the garage, she could see two figures walking around the side of the house, headed for the back door that led into the kitchen. They stopped outside the door, hunkering down on the side with their guns drawn. It had started raining while she was inside, and the water on the grass muffled her footsteps. As she neared the pair she caught snatches of their conversation, and at the mention of Miss Zurbin's name, she crouched down around a corner, behind them, to listen in.

"Can't believe this— I'm in bed last night, with my wife, and I get some call telling me t'come into work. Some bigwig out from Africa wants da whole team t'be ready and waiting at her beck and call."

His partner nodded in sympathy. "Yeah, and then her frigid majesty doesn't even show up for another three hours..."

"God, what was her name again? _Turbin?" _The first man asked, sounding immensely pleased with himself for the hooked-on-phonics insult he had managed to create.

"Try addin' a Z nimrod."

The first man rolled his eyes, while lifting up his suit jacket over his head, protecting his balding head. "So, we're just s'posed to wait around, getting soaked,--"

"Oh quit griping." His partner snapped, sounding annoyed.

"Well, what _were _her orders then?"

"We're to man our positions at the exits, catch the pretenders when they try to escape, and bring the girl to her. Guess she's got somethin' special in mind for that one."

Riley listened wide eyed to this report of her betrayal. The termination order had obviously never been taken off, and now she had lured the Centre out here, just to be gunned down once they arrived.

Taking a half step back, Riley pivoted on her heel and dashed across the lawn heading for the dense cover of the woods. The sounds of her running footsteps crashing through the puddles dotting the muddy ground alerted the sweepers behind her and she heard as the second in the pair shouted instructions at his more sarcastic colleague.

"Stick to the door! I'll get the kid!"

The sounds of footsteps dashing across the lawn after her spurred her onward, though looking back; the man behind her was fast. Her chest hitched with suppressed bouts of coughing, and the shudders wracking her torso were enough to slow her down. He tackled her from behind and the sopping wet and muddy ground soaked through her shirt and the fronts of her jeans as she struggled to displace his weight. Her arms were held behind her and he yanked her up from the ground, placing her back up on her feet. She still struggled against the iron hold he had around her biceps, though she might as well have been fighting against a statue for all the difference it made. He pushed her down the driveway, the sharp stones of the gravel path poking the bottom of her feet through the thin bottoms of her canvas shoes. She could see at the bottom of the grade three black towncars, lined up at the bottom across the length of the drive, so that no car would be able to pass them; at least not via the road. The window rolled down as she was forced toward the front car, and Miss Zurbin was revealed, wearing a malicious grin that made Riley's stomach flip flop nauseously.

Zurbin's smile broadened when she took in the mud-splattered, and drenched pretender, shaking in rage and fear as she was directed within three feet of the car. "Well, Well, Well, look what the cat dragged in."

Riley's struggles increased ten fold as the woman stepped gracefully from the car, toting her gun in her hand.

"Keep her still, if you would." She directed at the sweeper behind her, whose grip slackened only momentarily, as he grasped for the first time what he was expected to do here.

Riley managed to wrench an arm free during this moment of realization, but the man had gotten her into a choke hold the next moment and was holding her tightly again. He now held both her wrists together in his free hand, behind her back. Riley sputtered and struggled for air through the arm crushing her throat, but her struggles only made his hold stronger.

Her futile struggling didn't stop as she heard Zurbin cock the gun and watched as she took aim. She was glaring down the barrel of a 9mm handgun, in the face of the most detested person she could think of. This woman had caused her pain, she had driven her from her home, and she wanted to harm her. Rage bubbling beneath her skin like liquid fire, Riley wrenched herself sideways as she heard the gun go off. Pain erupted in her right shoulder and the man behind her let her go with a startled 'umph' as the bullet tore through the fleshy part of her shoulder and straight into his chest cavity. Riley snatched his gun from its holster at his side, ducking around behind the man, who was looking down at the flowering red blossom on his shirt with a confused expression. The man stumbled when she pushed him forward into Zurbin, before falling to the ground, his hand covering his stomach helplessly.

Her right arm hung uselessly at her side as she aimed the gun left-handedly. She shot Zurbin's trigger hand easily, and the woman dropped the gun with a startled cry of pain, clutching at her hand and cursing. The next bullet went somewhere more vital. The artery in her leg first, which sent the woman tumbling to the ground, stripping away all of her elegant poise. Her stomach was next, the acids would seep into her chest cavity over a span of fifteen minutes; a horribly drawn out death under normal circumstances, but she would not live for even that long, so it didn't really matter. The next bullet went into her right shoulder, sporting the same wound as Riley. And the next, carved a small cut across her cheek, just like the scar Riley had received in their last meeting. The final bullet entered her brain through her right eye; the place Zurbin had been aiming all this time and still failed to pierce.

_Oh how the mighty had fallen._


	23. Chapter 22: Part III

_Behind every little problem there's a larger problem, waiting for the little problem to get out of the way _

Parker watched her father pace in front of his desk, hand held up to his chin, covering his mouth as his eyebrows fixed together, meeting in the middle of his forehead with a wrinkled V.

"You don't think the Triumvirate really has a reason to bring anyone else into this mess, do you Daddy?" She asked with an arched eyebrow. By anyone else she meant 'us', and by us she meant 'we', and by we she of course meant 'you'. Parker was, naturally, always ready for a few rounds with anything the African bastards wanted to dish out, her father on the other hand... Parker had great faith in her father, but for all his machinations, each time something like this happened at the Centre it showed up on only one man's personnel report, and that was Mr. Charles Parker. The Triumvirate could only act stupid for so long. If they wanted her father out of his position, it would be an easy matter—there would be a fight of course, but the Triumvirate had the cards stacked against him.

Her father gave a dry chuckle, "Since when did the Triumvirate need a reason to do anything?" He said with a shake of his head. "No, they'll go through everyone here until they find what they're looking for. That rat, Raines has somehow managed to get himself off the hook, now it's your brother they're after."

"And if they can't get Lyle to crack?" She asked, picking up a silver framed picture of her and her father and running her thumb along the edge.

"Good for Lyle," he answered, sitting down in the leather swivel chair behind his desk, "Bad for us."

"And if he does?"

"Bad for Lyle, bad for us." He told her seriously and Parker could tell he was about to blow into full lecture-mode. "You need to understand Angel, this family is linked together, what happens to one of us affects us all." He held up a hand in a hushing motion before plowing on and Parker settled for rolling her eyes towards the ceiling rather than telling her father how she felt about that particular link in their chain.

"Now, I know you and your brother have had a few differences in the past--"

"--I hear that threatening people at gunpoint will do that to almost any relationship--"

"He's a part of this family Angel, he and you are the future—we need both of you to keep this legacy going. The Centre _must _stay in the hands of a Parker."

Parker stood up from her perch on the edge of the desk and paced slowly in front of it, tracing the pattern her father mere moments before had been cutting into the floor. "So what do we _do_?" She asked, irritated. There was nothing they _could _do.

Her father gave her another dry look, "We pray to God Lyle knows how to bluff."

Parker clenched her hands unconsciously; she wanted a cigarette. "So if Lyle does, by some stretch of all probability, manage to get himself off the hook and the Triumvirate continues tearing this place up, hypothetically, what do _I _do?"

"_You_, Angel, are already taken care of."

Parker stopped her pacing and looked at her father inquisitively.

"Angel, when skating over thin ice, our safety is in our _speed_." He quoted with a small quirk to his lips, under less stressed conditions he might have been smiling.

"Thoreau?" She asked.

"Emerson."

-

-

The side door off the house pushed open with a prolonged creak and Riley peeked out the small crack she had made. Wind was whipping outside, bending the trees at the edge of the woods. The sky was a gloomy grey and dark, heavy clouds spit tiny rain smatters downwards in a way that Will called 'sprinkling'. Will was insane.

It had been raining for the past two days straight, the power had failed early on, and Riley's less-than-adequate immune system had decided to crash around the same time. No one knew where she might have contracted a virus from, without another person for miles, but Riley suspected she had caught it in one of the motel rooms she and Jarod had stayed in. Riley had never had a cold in her life. The Facility was sterile. The Centre sub-levels were sterile. Riley had never before received an immunization shot. She had never coughed, sneezed, or had a fever. She had never built up any of the basic defenses most children did, and it only figured that her first foray into the world would take place in the middle of the cold season, in a dusty old house, during the wettest two days that fall had yet seen.

The past day had been spent sequestered in Will's room, working their way through twelve consecutive chess games that ended in a tie of six wins and six losses for each of them. The major had handed Will a thermometer silently sometime around ten o'clock, after Riley had battled her way through her fifth coughing fit in as many hours, and Will had somehow managed to coax her into keeping an eye on her temperature from that point on. The only bottle of cold medicine in the house had been scrounged up, half empty, and handed to Will in a similar fashion as the thermometer. It seemed that Will had officially been labeled nurse-maid/delegate-on-behalf-of-the-household when it came to Riley, he and her shadow had involved themselves in a sordid love affair over that past week that showed no signs of stopping. Riley surprised even herself by being happy for the near-constant company.

Jarod had stopped by once or twice during the previous day, to watch the chess matches and Riley had ignored him with the statue-like indifference she had adopted from the beginning. After her third successive loss while he was watching, Jarod left, and only stopped in again with soup and a cracker called saltines at lunch, then sandwiches at dinner. She ducked back inside and looked around the kitchen, gazing at the brown wooden cabinets and white walls with a look of tremendous reluctance. She swallowed against the sore and scratchy throat she had woken to that morning, licked her lips, summoned her courage; she hated this part. Riley dashed out of the door in a sprint, focusing on the door to the garage and trying to tune out the grass at her ankles and raindrops spattering on her face. She shouldn't be outside, it wasn't allowed. Mr. Raines was going to have a fit when he found out. They had warned her; outside was a dangerous, dangerous, place. She had to get back inside, had to, _now._

She attained the cracking white painted side door of the garage, reached in through the broken pane of glass, and flipped the lock on the inside. The hinges protested mightily as she shoved the door open and rushed in, pushing it closed once she had made it over the entryway. She shoved a box over in front of the door and latched it again to keep it from blowing open.

She coughed wetly, entire body shuddering in the effort, and winced at the uncomfortable, sore feeling in her chest. She rubbed her hair dry with a towel taken from a box full of bathroom accoutrements, and shifted a pot on top of another box to catch the drips leaking through the roof. The water hit the bottom of the saucepan with a steady pit-pat and joined in the small noise made by similarly styled water catchers scattered around the structure.

The garage was gloomy, the overhead light bulb was broken and the wiring had long ago short-circuited, so the only sources of light were the flashlights that she and Will had set up strategically around the room. There were few windows, a broken pane of glass in the side door she had just rushed through and a few lined up along the top of the garage door. Will appeased her by covering these with towels and blankets they had found stacked away in a moldy box in the corner. Vents in the corners led outside, and let a little light and fresh air in, but she didn't mind those so very much; The Centre had vents too.

Riley walked over to an upended moving box and sat down on top of it, ensconcing herself amidst the other debris along the wall. She watched as Will tinkered with something in the engine of the truck, metallic sounds bouncing around as he knocked something with a monkey-wrench. He popped her a look from over the opened hood of the car. Will hadn't wanted Riley to come out today; he seemed to think that she'd only get sicker; he was probably right. Riley had been adamant though, insisting, arguing, and cajoling her way to the garage. It was the only place in the tumbledown house that felt remotely right, and she had already been kept inside the entire day before.

It was early in the morning now, Jarod was out running, and the Major still in bed, Will had only agreed to come to the garage for a little while, while no one else was up.

"Dad's going to skin me alive if he finds out I let you out of the house." He said, "We should really go back inside."

Riley picked up something heavy-feeling from next to her in the box and threw it at him to communicate her thoughts on the subject. He ducked easily and the old softball clattered against the wall behind him harmlessly. Riley had aimed wide; it wasn't as though she actually wanted to hurt him, not anymore.

Will stood up from where he was leaning against the truck and moved over to one of the windows in the garage door. He lifted up a towel and peaked out, Riley tensed a bit as the stormy-weathered torrential grey sky, and wind whipping around the trees at the edge of the woods came into view from her perch. Will let the makeshift blind drop a bit when he noticed her edginess, though he kept stealing looks through the small gap he held open at the bottom.

"This is the first time you've ever seen rain, isn't it?" He asked, though the question was really a rhetorical one. Riley had never seen rain before, not even through a window at the facility, and the drops pattering on the roof and against her window had woken her up last night.

"I noticed the glow from your flashlight under your door last night." He told her, looking away from the window and leaning with his back to the garage door, arms crossed over his chest. "You were scared, weren't you."

Riley curled herself a little more firmly into a ball, sending him another sullen look. "_You_ were worried too; you st-stayed up all night." She changed the subject, hating the stuttering she still hadn't managed to tame. She _had _been scared, but Riley wasn't going to tell him that. To be honest, Riley really wasn't sure what _he_ had been feeling. It had been something like the opposite of every other emotion she could ever remember picking up on. The closest she could link it with was worry, but even that seemed a stretch.

Will's eyebrows knit together and his head cocked to one side inquisitively. "My light wasn't on. How did you know I was awake?"

Riley shrugged and pulled her knees closer to her chin a bit. "I-I could feel you. You were worried." She reiterated and watched as Will pushed himself off the wall to walk back over to the truck.

"I was concerned about you."

"Oh." She hadn't realized there was that much of a difference before.

"What's that like? Being an empath, I mean." He asked her, picking up the tools he had been working with and placing them back on the tool racks behind him, wiping off grease and grime as he worked.

"W-What's that like? Being a _clone, _I mean." She responded sullenly, hoping he would drop it."

Instead, he just rolled his eyes at her. "Jarod described Angelo to me. You aren't like him."

Riley's eyebrows knit together at the thought of Angelo.

"_...no more Timmy..."_

_Riley felt fear spike off to the left of her and followed the live emotion into the room it was coming from. She strained in the gloom to make out Jarod's tall form, though the room was too dark even to see those objects hardly an arms length away. Riley held her hands out in front of her, stretching nimbly to avoid anything she might bump into. Her hand connected with something and emotions raced along her nerve endings like electricity, exploding behind her eyes in a wisp of memory that was not hers._

"...no more Timmy. From now on..."

_Riley ripped her hand away from whatever she was touching, feeling as though the flesh might melt from her bones. She stumbled backward out into the corridor with a strangled, but loud, cry, running into a rolling tray against the far wall. The metal contraption clattered to the ground, sending up a raucous din behind her. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as though her very soul would escape and she looked to Jarod guiltily. He stood about ten feet away from her with a horrorstruck expression on his face. Riley listened to her heart drumming wildly in her chest and the roaring sound of blood rushing through her ears, the sounds of running footsteps and a startled cry came from up the corridor, and Riley subconsciously tried to melt into the wall as she listened to the voices up around the bend._

"_Listen! Did you hear that?"_

"_How could I not hear it Parker- It sounded like someone was being murdered!"_

_Jarod pulled Riley out of her state of shock, tugging her forward. "Go!"_

Riley shook herself from the memory, unconsciously running her thumb along the tips of her fingers, tracing the perfectly circular burn marks, scalded red and black where her brain thought the electric current had entered her body. She had never actually been burnt, that chair hadn't worked in decades, but her mind thought it had. Her empathic senses would do that sometimes, creating things that weren't real; her eye color might change slightly, or she might become temporarily asthmatic, or she might lose all feeling in one of her limbs; it all depended on who her senses were picking up on. The night Mr. Lyle had disappeared nearly three years ago, and what she deduced to be the night his hand was mangled, Riley's thumb had gone numb for hours. Riley knew what Will was trying to get at. She wouldn't tell him. That secret was hers.

"I know what an empath is Riley," Will tried again, leaning forward over the hood of the truck. "It's not something that just happens normally."

Riley glared at him angrily. "There are a lot of things that aren't normal, _William_." She emphasized the name, dragging it out so that he couldn't miss the highlighting of the word. Will looked put off by the sudden change of topic. Good. Riley watched as his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and continued talking, "Say, d-does The Major know? I mean, it's a bit of a strange coincidence isn't it? P-Picking that particular name, out of millions. Come to th-think of it, isn't Mr. Raines' first name-?"

Will slammed the hood of the truck down angrily and threw the greasy rag he had been working with over on top of the tool bench, striding towards the side door with long angry steps. "You-- You're a real trip, you know that?" He shoved the box she had placed in front of it out of the way and fiddled with the rusted old lock, trying to jimmy it into complacent behavior. "I mean; if you didn't want to talk about it you could have just told me, I would have listened." He fought the rusty hinges and stuck lock to get the door open and stomped outside in the direction of the house.

Riley watched him go with a stubborn feeling of Serves-You-Right. A moment passed and Riley shifted on her perch, shifting back when she felt something dig into her back. She pulled the sheaf of memos out from where they were tucked into the waistband of her jeans and regarded them contemplatively. The tiniest nudge of remorse prodded at her, slowly growing in its insistence. _He didn't deserve that. He was only curious._ Will hadn't been trying to hurt anyone, she on the other hand... Riley jumped down off her box and headed over to the door that was still thrown open, standing back from it a ways, as she viewed the outdoor scenery as though it might bite. She could still make out Will's retreating form through the rain that was falling much harder now.

"Will, wait!" She called out, her voice muffled through her sore throat and the torrential weather outside. She wanted to apologize, but either he really hadn't heard her or he was choosing not to, because he didn't pause or turn around.

"Please wait! I'm sorry!" She tried again, "I need to t-talk to you!" Riley tried making her voice heard through the wind and rain; it wasn't much use though, she could hardly hear herself from where she stood. She looked reluctantly around the garage for a moment, trying to tell herself that she hadn't come out to the garage that morning with anything particular on her mind, that she didn't actually need to talk to Will, that she didn't need to go outside again. The sheaf of memos nudged her uncomfortably in the back.

Riley pelted out into the rain, shivering wetly in the thin baseball shirt she wore, and trying not to think that if she were caught out here she would be in _so much trouble._ She caught up to Will within three feet of the house and he rewarded her by turning around with a guarded expression, as though he expected her to pry into more deeply hidden feelings than those she had already touched upon.

It might have been better to come out here with something to say, she thought. Yes, that definitely would have been more intelligent than running _outside_ without knowing what to say or how to say it and then standing on the lawn getting drenched, water dripping off of the bill to the baseball cap she wore, with her mouth hanging open as she tried to decide what exactly the best way to apologize was. Riley had apologized before of course; she had apologized for being disobedient, and she had apologized for being disrespectful, and she had apologized for not doing something well enough, and disappointing people. Unfortunately, Riley gathered that apologizing for intentionally being mean to a person was quite a bit different than those and therefore had no idea how to begin.

"Just forget about it." Will muttered, granting her some reprieve with a sort of half-hurt shielded look that told her everything was forgiven, if not entirely forgotten.

Riley sagged slightly in relief before giving an apprehensive look around her at the mud soaked grass and dead, wet leaves strewing the ground. "C-can we g-go inside now?"

-

-

Some time later, Riley sat cross-legged atop the rag-rug in the center of her room, the warmest bit of floor on a day like this, given that the rest of her bedroom was covered in barely-insulated hardwood. Will sat across from her, both of them clutching at steaming mugs of tea, which Will had managed to fix from the boxes they had found of variously flavored bags in the high cupboards of the kitchen. It was, but not quite, entirely unlike anything she had ever tasted before. Riley decided she liked it, a lot.

They had both changed into dryer clothing, Riley pulling on an outsize sweatshirt found in her closet that had air-force insignia across the front. It seemed to be the first piece of clothing she had found that was actually improved upon by being large-as-a-circus-tent-- the extra air inside warmed up quickly and now Riley felt just about ready to nod off in the comfortable warmth that incurred between the warm sweatshirt and even warmer tea.

The memos lay spread out between them and she waited as she watched Will pour over each one individually, elbows resting on his knees, chin resting on his fisted hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His hair was still wet from the rain and spiked out at odd angles, halfway dry for its shortness, and well on its way to making him look as though he had just rolled out of bed.

Will finished reading and looked up at her with a puzzled expression. "Okay... So the Triumvirate has it in for Raines...well, wait a sec..." He shuffled papers and reread something "O.K., not anymore... The Triumvirate only has it in for Lyle. What do you want to do about it?"

Riley shrugged. "I don't really know what to do about it." She admitted slowly, that was why she had decided to get Will's help.

"Well then what was the point of—"

"I want to t-try contacting him at the Centre." She said, calmly as possible-- short, simple, to-the-point.

Will choked into his tea mutely and looking as though he was trying not to spit the drink out on top of her papers. He finally managed to swallow. "You want to _what? _And how precisely did you want to do that-- you could end up getting us all caught!"

"Jarod does it all the time."

"Yeah, but..." Will felt rather stupid about wanting to say _yeah, but that's Jarod, _and scrambled about for a better argument.

"I've seen him on his laptop. I've watched him set up the c-connection—"

"Spied on him setting up the connection, is more like it."

She rolled her eyes "Semantics." Will gave her a half-glare that he couldn't quite make full-blown. He couldn't allow himself to get angry with her; it was the first time since arriving here that Riley had chosen to have an actual conversation with anyone. He couldn't be mad about that, could he? "It's not that d-difficult." Riley persisted.

"I don't know about this, Riley. We could get a lot of people in trouble with this." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter anyway; Jarod would never let us near his computer if he knew who you wanted to call. He'd throw a fit!"

"Exactly."

Will gave her a suspicious look, as though he knew that he had missed a giant leap in the thought process and felt he knew what he had missed hearing in spite of this. "Exactly... what?"

"Exactly why we c-can't tell him."

Will stood up from the floor, kicking at the papers on the ground with an impossible expression on his face. "I'm not hearing this."

Riley stood up from where she was sitting as well, and blocked his exit from the room. "D-Don't tell me it doesn't b-bother you that Jarod can dial up his _own pursuers_ at the Centre any t-time he wants, and you and I can't simply be-because he's got insecurities about the people we'd like t-to call." She said, advancing on him slowly.

Will backed up in small stages, glancing furtively over his shoulder as the backs of his knees bumped into the bed behind him. He slumped down onto the mattress, crossing his arms over his chest a little apprehensively, his eyebrows knitting together in a slightly distrustful look. "I'd like to take a moment to point out that his insecurities about those people are rather well based." He told her defensively.

"Maybe I have insecurities about Miss Parker. I don't stop Jarod from c-calling her any time he gets the notion!"

Will looked at her curiously, "_You _have insecurities about _Miss Parker?_" He asked her, as though the mere notion was silly. "_Why? _She's wonderful."

Riley rolled her eyes. Miss Parker was an unknown entity to Riley even after working periodically with the woman for the better part of a month. Riley had felt her distinct loathing during those few times that Mr. Lyle had brought her to the pursuit team's main office, always directed at him with a hard glare. Mr. Lyle always seemed to shrug her distaste off easily, but Riley hadn't liked it. She hadn't liked it at all. "We can argue Miss Parker's status as a g-goddess in this household later. The point of the matter is that ju-just because Jarod doesn't like Mr. Lyle d-doesn't mean that I shouldn't be able to—"

Will stood back up from his seat on the bed. "Hold on just one second, why the heck do you _want _to contact Lyle? He's... Well... That is to say..."

"He's what?" Riley asked challengingly.

"He's creepy." Will told her, deflating a bit. He looked as though he might want to tell her more about his experiences with the man, hovering on the edge of indecision, but a moment later the wavering look was gone. "I remember him, I met him, he was just... creepy."

Riley scowled at him, but didn't bother trying to dissuade him of the opinion.

Will gave her another probing glance. "I just don't get it Riley. Why do you want to talk to him so badly? Even if you get hold of him, if he's in trouble with the Triumvirate, there's nothing we can do to get him out."

Riley couldn't tell him that she wanted to go home. He'd never help her. He wouldn't understand. She gave him an exasperated glare and sidestepped his question with one of her own. "Will, didn't you ever feel like you j-just needed to talk to someone that you _knew?_" She asked him. "Someone who knew _you? _You were in my p-position hardly a year ago, didn't you ever want t-to talk to Mr. Raines--"

"That man can burn on his own cigarettes." Will told her bitterly, toeing his shoe into the carpet.

"Wouldn't you like to t-tell him that?" Riley asked him.

Will gave her a sidelong glance. "You're manipulating me, aren't you?"

"Is it working?" Riley asked hopefully.

A short smile tipped the corners of his mouth. "A little."

Riley breathed a short sigh of relief. "I just need to t-talk to him. I need to find out what's g-going on." She indicated the files littering the floor. "The last time he went away he came back minus a digit. I'm just..." She paused a moment, smiling inwardly at the memory from this morning. She wasn't just worried; she was "concerned."

Will nodded, "And you aren't going to tell him anything about where we are? I'm serious Riley, even if he orders you, you can't tell him about us, anything about us."

"I know that." She said, fighting internally with the thought of lying to Will about this. He was offering his help to her. _He belongs there too. (He doesn't want to be there) It doesn't matter! He never had the right to leave! He belongs to the Centre. _"I won't say anything." She finished the lie, her stomach twisting slightly. Turning him in had been part of the plan from the beginning, why was she having problems with it all of a sudden? _(He's going to hate me.) He was never meant to leave in the first place. He'll go back to his life and he will understand. (He hates it there. Mr. Raines lied to him.) He would have had his reasons. (Like his reasons for lying to you?) He was protecting me. He said so. (He'll never forgive you for this.) I know. _Riley could see the suspicious look in his eyes that said he didn't quite believe her. Will knew better than any of them how much she missed her life. Mr. Raines had raised him as well.

"I couldn't tell them where we were even if I wanted to Will. The Triumvirate has a termination order out on me. If they find us, I'm in an even worse situation than you are." She told him. No one in the house exempting Will knew about the order at all. And she still hadn't told him why. People knowing she had killed a man had forced her to flee the only home she had ever known, Riley shuddered at the thought of what telling might do here.

Will considered her statement, coming to a decision. "We're leaving this place in two days," He told her. "We've already stayed here longer than we ever do, and I think Jarod's a little spooked. You should try calling the night before we run. That way if they set up a trace before you can get off the line, we'll be gone in the morning in any case, and Jarod and the Major never need to know."

Riley nodded at his plan, it was a good one. They were far enough away from Delaware, and in a remote enough area, that it would take the Centre several hours to get to the house, even with the jet. It could be close, but Riley was confident they would get away. She couldn't allow herself to be caught yet; not before her termination order was revoked. So unless she could force the Triumvirate into a decision quickly, which was rather unlikely, she would have to be able to get away this time. They didn't need very much time, _(did they?) _she couldn't stay on the line that long anyway. And with all the encryptions on Jarod's equipment, it wasn't very likely that the Centre would get a trace at all.

_How would they get the Major and Jarod out of the house?_

Riley picked up the papers from the floor and stacked them together as she thought about it. It was a good plan. It would work. It _had _to work. She needed to go home. Riley didn't allow any of her desperation to show as she heaved up the mattress with some help from Will to put the memos back in their hiding place.

A floorboard creaked out in the hallway and Riley dropped the mattress onto the bed frame quickly, looking over at Will as he grabbed a deck of cards from beneath the bed and sat down in his previous seat, she dropped into her own position opposite him and Will made like he was teaching her a game. He was halfway through explaining the theory behind a poker face, apt topic that it was, when Major Charles opened the door to the room.

He looked from Riley to Will with a semi-hopeful look on his face. "I thought I heard you two talking in here." He said. Riley clenched her jaw shut and looked down at the hand Will had just dealt her. The major's hopeful look dissipated. With a look from the elder man, Will got up from his seat and walked out of the room. The Major entered and took a seat in her desk chair, pulling it out from her desk so that he was facing her. Riley dropped the cards in her hand down onto the floor. Now that her partner-in-crime had left (_traitor), _they no longer served as a viable distraction from the man. The Major looked at her contemplatively before he started speaking. "Still not feeling too talkative, eh?"

Riley had been taught from childhood to be respectful towards adults, speak when spoken to, despite her feelings towards them. She had also been taught only recently that Jarod and anyone he was associated with was not to be trusted. She settled for a middle ground and shook her head in the negative.

"Well that's okay kiddo; you'll figure things out soon enough. No one here wants to hurt you, you'll learn that given time, and if you give us a chance, you might find you like it out here." He told her with a small smile.

Riley doubted it.


	24. Chapter 22: Part I

_**Crespins law of observation: the probability of being observed is in direct proportion to the stupidity of ones actions **_

"This might sting a bit."

The liquid bubbled as it hit her hands, sending a cold, burning sensation up her arms, feeling like liquid fire. She sucked her breath in with a hiss, and jerked her palms away immediately to avoid the peroxide.

"Riley, I need to clean these." Jarod calmly took her hands back, running them under the warm tap water. Riley glared at him sullenly from where she sat on the toilet seat in the motel bathroom, surrounded by peeling, flowery wallpaper, and cracked linoleum. The alcohol-soaked cotton ball he pulled away from her palms was stained bright red. The light bulb flickered overhead. The pain in her hands had receded back to a dull throbbing, her palms covered in a hot feeling beneath the skin that felt like fever. It made her hands itch and forced her to ignore the immediate reaction to rub them on her pant legs. The whole affair was a disagreeable experience in her mind. She had had cuts cleaned before of course, in the infirmary, but she couldn't seem to remember them ever being this much of an irritant before.

"Relax; I'm not trying to hurt you." Jarod said quietly as he released her hands and turned around to grab something from the first aid kit at his side. "You're lucky those haven't been infected yet, with all the dust in those vents." He told her, rummaging around the kit distractedly, "Those gashes are pretty deep." He turned back around holding gauze and some medical tape. Jarod wound the gauze strip around her palms, and it seemed so odd in her mind that he was capable of being this gentle. She knew this thought was illogical--knew from her simulations that Jarod was not a violent man, but it seemed strange despite this. After all, she also knew that Jarod could be pushed to a point where his emotions would get the best of him, and if anyone could make Jarod cross that line it was the Centre. Why then, was he helping her, when she had been the one working so hard to capture him?

Mr. Raines had told her that Jarod was not to be trusted; that he tried to twist the perceptions of people, and lied to everyone he met. That must be what Jarod was doing now; he was trying to get her to trust him. Why? Riley didn't know, but she could work on figuring that mystery out later. She tugged her hands out of his the instant she saw him finish, watching the hurt look as it crossed his face before he reigned in his expression. As she walked out of the room, keeping her eyes fixed determinedly on the floor, she heard him give a soft sigh behind her. Good riddance, she didn't need another person lying to her.

_Mr. Raines didn't lie. (Yes he did.) Mr. Lyle didn't lie. (Shut up!)_

Riley sank down to sit on the bed, allowing her aching muscles some respite. Her legs felt as though they were on fire, burning even worse now than they had during her actual run through the woods. Her lungs weren't in much better shape, she felt even now as though she should start breaking into a coughing fit every time she inhaled. She ignored the soreness in her legs, inwardly snarling at the mental voices which continued to whisper bitter resentment into her ear, disparaging Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines and slowly second guessing everything they had ever told her. _(Shut up! Just Shut! UP!)_

She faced the dark window, slowly studying the reflection she found there. When she had first seen herself in the side-mirror of the car she had been startled, breathing deeply to fill her lungs after her haphazard run through the Blue Cove woods; the scared whites of her eyes and teeth gleaming while the rest of her was pale, as though all the blood in her body had simply disappeared. Riley had turned away from the small mirror immediately and kept her eyes straight forward as Jarod maneuvered the vehicle off Centre property. She hadn't looked again. Now, she studied herself. Sitting on the bed, lit from behind by a lamp on the nightstand, the colors muted slightly in the windowpanes. A dark bruise had formed below her left eye, surrounding a short shallow cut. Jarod had taped it over with medical strips. She had Zurbin's horrible aim to thank for that she knew, a scar that would stay with her for the rest of her days, which was still better than dead, she had to remind herself. Dead was what she have been had that bullet been launched off only an inch in the opposite direction.

Her eyes were a barely discernable dark brown, she could hardly tell where the pupil ended and the iris began, and she hated to think that they were very much like Jarod's... odd that. A thin, straight nose and lips that seemed unremarkable, long eyelashes and high cheekbones, a small dark mark set just beneath her eye. Dark brown hair styled in a simple straight cut that hung just above her shoulders. Her skin was an almost ghostly pale, having never acquired a tan in her life, which made her inky eyes and dark hair stick out in even sharper contrast than would be normal. Her clothes were outsized, but that hardly mattered to her--a long sleeved black shirt that she had had to roll five times to gain the use of her hands, and jeans that Jarod had tailored because she couldn't get further than two steps without tripping over the foot or more of extra material. The ragged hems of the cut-offs dangled loosely over the tops of her Centre-issue slip-on shoes. Jarod had insisted that she take some of his clothing when he had seen the bloodstained front of her shirt and pants. She knew Jarod was curious when he saw the splatter, but she never explained about the sweeper in renewal wing. She never planned to either.

She could still taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth, and some dark corner of her mind liked that reminder. The other part shuddered in horror.

She got up and grabbed a cup up from the small counter off to the side of the room, filling it with water from the sink. She swished the water around her mouth a couple of times until she could no longer make out the trace of blood between her teeth and spat it back out into the basin. Riley knew the blood was gone, as gone as she could make it that was, but her brain kept telling her she could still taste it, still feel it pouring hot into her mouth from the man's finger. She could have bit down harder, just a bit harder, and his bones would have snapped, cracked like a broken pencil. It would have been quick work after that to detach the whole digit. She wished she could have seen his face had she done it. A stiff shocked look as he gaped at the empty knuckle of his trigger finger.

Her stomach roiled a bit at the images her brain was supplying her with, but she squelched it down.

He deserved what he got.

-

-

Lyle stepped into the room, self-satisfied smirk firmly in place, every aspect of his presence meticulously well kept, flawless. He was the picture of confidence, and he knew it. Of course, the description in itself was enough to stir his own wry sense of humor, for among the long list of words he would use to describe himself at that moment, confident was most certainly not among them. No person could truly be confident while walking into a meeting with the Triumvirate

Really, it wasn't so much a meeting as a poorly disguised interrogation. 'An inquiry' they called it. That was laughable! Though Lyle had to admit, they had gone to some great lengths to make it seem like nothing to worry about, just a looking-into of recent events. Lyle knew better though; nothing that included the Triumvirate was so casual.

The room he walked into was like any other corporate meeting room you could find across the country. Carpeted floor, good lighting, a large wooden conference table in the center with desk chairs set all around, a phone pushed off at one end. The only exception to the rule was the apparent lack of windows. Then again, he was 13 levels below the ground. What did he expect? Wall-to-Wall picture windows opening onto a wonderful view of _cinderblock_? The absence of windows was not the part that was bothering him in any case, that was something a person became accustomed to when working for the Centre. It was the fact that this was taking place on a sublevel in the first place that set him on edge; a sublevel where a person might be detained and kept for indeterminable lengths of time without any say in the matter. It was a subtle message the Triumvirate was sending, but one that he caught on all the same, 'we can make your life hell if we so choose'.

The room was empty save Lyle himself; two sweepers had 'escorted' him here however, so he could only assume he would see someone shortly. Or rather, he could only hope he would see someone shortly, because that was how the Triumvirate worked, the longer they made you wait, the more they wanted you to squirm. The longer you had to wait, the more you would think about what had landed you at this 'inquiry' in the first place, and the more your imagination would wander, dredging up horrible ideas of what they would do to you when they showed up. And that was a much more effective way of reminding people of the power those crazy Zulus held over their lives than any manner of actual physicality. Naturally, if they did not make you wait, it meant that you were still of some value to them. It meant that you weren't entirely in the doghouse yet. Lyle knew about the Triumvirate's methods, _all _of them. He knew exactly what to expect, and that made waiting all the worse.

At this point, Lyle was merely glad he hadn't been shipped off to Africa, as Raines had. Lyle knew better than to get his hopes up though, the 'good doctor' would weasel out of the situation as he always did, probably landing the blame on someone he considered beneath him... Lyle only hoped that the fiasco had not been pinned on himself. It would have been easy enough to fabricate, with his record of near coup attempts and subsequent falls from grace the Triumvirate might be swayed in their decision, not that Raines wasn't without his own faults...

Still, Lyle couldn't help but notice that Raines was carted off to Africa and hardly a week later Lyle found himself physically removed from his office by two goons that looked as though they had missed a step in the evolutionary process, all under the pretense of a meeting with the Triumvirate. That didn't bode well at all.

-

-

_It was long past the time when the lights had gone off and she had been ordered to sleep, when Sarah opened the door to her room and shook her awake. She beckoned Riley to follow her, and Riley did, never even thinking to question why Sarah was here so long after the building was shut down for the night. As her mentor led the way down long corridors and up several flights of stairs that left Riley's groggy mind ready to drift off at any moment, she was constantly looking both left and right, giving off a sense of anxiety that was nearly palpable. Riley noticed the worry, but didn't give it much of a second thought. _

_She was much too tired._

_There was something weird about that night which Riley couldn't really explain to herself until perhaps years later. She hadn't really understood what was going on. No one had ever done anything with her that hadn't been authorized beforehand by the board members. Natural that she didn't think this case was any different. _

_No one had been in the halls of the Facility at all: no janitorial service, no computer technicians working on late night assignments, no one. The lights were all off, and the cameras weren't tracking her movements like they normally did. Riley knew now that the trip would have never received the stamp of approval. The board would have thought it was superfluous; it had no practical application for her education. Mr. Raines would have shot the idea down without a second thought. The idea of her going anywhere that wasn't a SIM lab would have made him nervous. He didn't like putting her in situations he didn't have all the control over. _

_After navigating several dusty back routes through the hallways, some that Riley had not even known existed; Sarah had finally stopped outside a plain steel door. She had taken out a metal key ring and quietly unlocked it, gently tugging Riley forward until she stood outside._

_Riley remembered it being cold, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. Sarah had called them 'Goosebumps'. The night had felt different from anything she had ever experienced. Riley had never been cold in her life; the sublevels were kept at a specific temperature at all times. She remembered shivering too, and that Sarah had picked her up and held her; tucking her inside her coat. Riley thought that had been a new experience as well. She had never been held like that before; sidled on one hip with another person's arms around her; at least, if she had been she couldn't remember it. Sarah had been warm and Riley had been tempted to fall asleep, but she had been sure that wouldn't be allowed. Her eyes had itched with tiredness, but she had kept them open._

_They hadn't been able to stay long, and when Sarah was finally able to drag Riley away from the sight of bright pinholes punched in blue velvet sky, it was only on the terms that she would take her out to see them again soon._

"_Don't worry, I'm gonna get you outta here kiddo; and then you can see the stars every night if you want."_

_Riley hadn't understood what she meant, but she had liked the sound of it. What a luxury; to be able to come and see these whenever she wanted. _

_Riley drew a picture that night, full of carefully placed constellations; she worked hard, wanting to show Sarah how much she had enjoyed the trip, and selfishly hoping her eagerness to go back would not be denied for long. But the next day, Sarah left._

Riley shook herself from her reverie, listening to the purr of the engine and whistling white noise of wind passing beneath and around the car. They were driving again. They had been driving for a while. Riley sat motionless, silent as before, glancing periodically at the scenery that passed far too quickly for her to really absorb anything more than color and general shape and size. It blurred in her mind and she was glad. The mere walk from the hotel room to the car that morning had been terrifying enough to nearly make her hyperventilate; she hated being outside. The light hurt her eyes and the sounds were disorienting. The whole experience of it all made her feel as though she had been spinning around in fast circles, like she did when she was little, until her head ached and she couldn't breath fast or hard enough to take in air and she stumbled to the ground dizzily. That child's game wasn't terrifying though, it had been a game, a distraction while she waited for Mr. Lyle to show up in the SIM lab. But being outside made her want to scream, and all she could think of was that she wasn't supposed to be out here, she would be caught. Mr. Lyle would be disappointed, and Mr. Raines would be angry and she would be in _so_ much trouble.

The folder from the vents was tucked up by her feet, placed there mutely at some point during the escape getaway. She had tucked the disks into their small pockets in the folder, all save one. The disk she had touched and heard someone screaming on. She had slipped that one into her pocket, and fully planned on 'losing' it the instant she could.

She knew what was on that disk even if she preferred not to watch it, or think about it, or remember it, or allow anyone to see it... or anything.

'_Where are we going?'_ she wanted to ask, but couldn't bring herself to speak with Him.

She provided the answer herself, positive that if she had spoken aloud His answer would be no different. '_Someplace safe.'_

'_What do we do when we get there?'_

'_Nothing that will attract the Centre'_

'_Why do you keep running?'_

'_Because they keep chasing me'_

'_Why don't you stop sending clues?'_

'_Because I'm a pretentious, pompous, pedantic, presumptuous, prodigy; arrogant that my tremendously high IQ and natural charm will never allow anything terrible to happen to me no-questions-asked' _

So perhaps that wasn't what he would _actually_ say, but it didn't make the answer any less satisfactory.

-

-

Raines stalked around the small cell slowly, taking in the grey cinderblock walls and prison-stylized amenities. The broken chair had been replaced, and now bolted to the floor to discourage the girl from using it as a weapon again. The bookshelves had been organized, the bed made, and the desk straightened up. Various drawings that had hung on the walls were now stacked neatly on a corner of the desk next to the other items procured from the search Raines had ordered of the room.

One green notebook.

One textbook on criminal psychology, found lying open on the bed.

One large hunting knife.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out one final item; a necklace pendant found tied up underneath the bed.

Raines had already been through the contents of the notebook, and the grisly words found there had been enough to force a smugly satisfied look onto his face. The textbook itself had been no mystery; it had been a book from his own personal library actually; and he had given it to Riley years before. The knife had been found beneath the girl's pillow. Fitting, he thought. The room would be ready for her when she came back; and Raines knew that she _would_ come back. It was a simple matter of time until Riley contacted _them, _begging forgiveness and permission to come home, he was certain of it. He picked up the neatly stacked drawings from the edge of the desk as he left the room. That privilege would be revoked once she returned. Riley would find that there would be many changes made in her life once she returned.

-

-

The door opened whisper-silent, and a man stepped into the room. Graying hair, transparent blue eyes, wire rimmed glasses, grey suit, white shirt, thin black tie. Cheap looking shoes. He was hugging a _typewriter _to his chest. Lyle's first coherent thought as he looked at the man was '_where the hell did they dredge this loser up?_' He was followed inside by another man, this one looking more like what Lyle had been expecting, which was to say, very sinister and menacing with a nice glare on his face that said quite clearly, 'would you like to lose _another _digit?' His ...typist... Lyle was hesitant to place a name on the man, was setting up noisily in the corner, and Lyle had to wonder if he had ever heard any employee of the Triumvirate draw that much attention to themselves before.

Unlikely.

He was exactly the sort of man that Lyle would have labeled a push-over were he meeting him under different circumstances- someone he could manipulate, a man to be used and then discarded. Lyle didn't try typecasting his boss. He gave him a subtle once-over, trying to guess the likeliest place where he would hold a gun. No sweepers had followed them into the room, and no person was stupid enough yet to enter a room with Lyle unarmed, particularly if they knew of his reputation beforehand. A shoulder holster, he decided, would suit this man perfectly. The man was large enough however, that any small bulge was hidden easily and Lyle had no way of knowing if his guess was right, unless he provoked him to draw it... no, no he probably shouldn't. It wouldn't do to make the Triumvirate angry with him, not any more than they already were.

Lyle gave a discreet look at his watch as the man turned his back to find a seat at the table in the center of the room. Half an hour passed since he had been led in here. Okay, he could get the message, the Triumvirate wasn't pleased with him, but he could make them see the error of their convoluted ways. The game had only just begun after all. The big man seemed to find a seat at the table that suited him, halfway along the length, on the side closest to the door. He rested his hands on the back of his seat, but remained standing behind it. The shiny gold watch around his beefy wrist flashed as it caught on the lights overhead; Lyle thought it looked to be a Rolex. He had a fuzzy goatee growing along his chin and slightly up his jaw line, and a faint scar ran across the bridge of his nose, a faded remembrance of a breakage from long-ago. The lights reflected dully off his cue-ball bald head. He gestured across the table to the seat in front of him. "Mr. Lyle, so glad you could make it."

Lyle pushed himself away from where he was leaning against the wall, hands hidden in his pants pockets. "Well, it was an invitation I just... couldn't pass up."

_Especially as I was being frog-marched out of my office _

The stenographer gave a high nervous titter that turned into a cough halfway through. He cleared his throat, shuffling his papers as though trying to look like he knew what he was doing. Lyle hooked an eyebrow in his direction, taking his seat.

Pea-brain shuffled his papers again.

"You know why you are here, correct?" Lyle's attention was directed back to the man in front of him, deep salt-and-pepper voice grating against his ears.

The typewriter started clicking away just outside his vision. Lyle bit back the instinct to turn towards the crisp noise, keeping his eyes trained on the man in front of him instead. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he heard the carriage hit a hard return. "Why don't you _enlighten_ me?" He asked, hardly keeping the sarcasm from his voice.

The man gave him a steely look at that last remark. "Mr. Lyle, what are your recollections of the night of November the 23rd?" Lyle returned the rigid stare and didn't answer. If the Triumvirate wanted to pin this whole affair on him, he certainly wasn't going to help them. "Mr. Lyle, you _do _know the events of the day I'm speaking of, do you not? I'm afraid I require an answer." His interrogator continued with the air of a man talking to a slow child. The typist keyed this question into the report in the same noisy manner that he had all of the previous ones. Lyle waited to give his response until silence had been restored to the room.

"Everything I could possibly tell you was already sent in my report." Lyle told him, sitting back in his chair, ready to stick it in for the long haul. There was only one possible reason that the Triumvirate would want a statement from him- they were hoping to catch him in a lie. He wouldn't give them the chance.

"I require it in your own words, Mr. Lyle." The man reiterated, and Lyle could see he was beginning to grate on him.

"My report was in _my own words_."

-

-

This was their second night spent in a hotel room, though they had left Delaware and all that entailed far behind them. Riley knew where they were going now- Colorado. Jarod had bought a road map in a small service station, the sign above it designating it a "Mini Mart" _whatever that was..._ He had plotted a route in bright red pen and circled a small area on the outskirts of a town. Riley didn't know what was there, though the surrounding area seemed to hold a green patch of dense wood and some cross between a pond and lake, neither small nor large enough to truly be called either. He had thrown the map book onto the dashboard in front of her casually, but Riley could tell that the move was rehearsed. She also couldn't help but notice that they were taking an incredibly indirect route. And she happened to know for a fact that Jarod could go days without sleep, and yet, they had been stopping each night in some roadside inn, a 'Travel Lodge' or 'Motel Six'. Jarod had then stayed up for only an hour or more before dropping onto one of the two beds.

Jarod was doing this on purpose, she knew. He was trying to give her time to open up before they reached their destination. Why though? Why? Why did he need her to trust him by the time they arrived and why did he expect her to in the first place? She was more confused by the man next to her than she had ever been by anything before. She wanted to talk to Mr. Lyle. She needed help. She needed to find a way to pull the Triumvirate's termination order off her. She needed to know about Sarah's murder. She needed to know why Mr. Lyle had been removed from her project. She needed to talk to people she could trust. But how? How could she possibly get her life back? In any case, the life she would go back to if she returned to the Centre would not be the one she had left; she was hardly capable of erasing the past after all. If she went back she would be taken to Africa _(not good)_, and most likely placed once again on the pursuit of Jarod _(ditto)_, after some retraining _(of course)._ She would be under Mr. Raines' direction _(oh, bad)_, and she would never get to know the truth. There was not much to look forward to in that scenario.

She couldn't make a deal with the Triumvirate; she didn't trust them enough to believe that they wouldn't renege on their promises the instant she was back in custody. And she couldn't try trading in Jarod, that wouldn't change anything. It would only mean that The Triumvirate would have two pretenders instead of one. It didn't secure her position at all. The problem kept showing up every time that she simmed a possible situation; the biggest problem with returning to the Centre was that her influence in anything that happened afterward was nil. What was she going to do? Thinking that hypothetically she ever _did _get back to the Centre, when the Triumvirate ordered that she find Jarod, what was she supposed to do? Tell them that wasn't part of their deal?

_Oh, yes, that sounds like an excellent plan Riley, because of course the Triumvirate is going to listen to you! _She scoffed inwardly_ More likely to shove me back in the renewal wing and tell me to do as I'm told like a good little girl... _

No, there was no going back to her old life. Not without some sort of help, in any case.

She stole a passing glance outside her window, instantly regretting the decision as she took in the vast expanse of nothing but white wheat fields, tinged bright silver in the sun, and not another person in sight for miles. It was huge. A trembling shudder seemed to quake from somewhere in the region of her stomach and Riley hunkered down in her seat, pretending what she had seen was not real. Closing her eyes and pretending she was back in her room; she was back in her room surrounded by four concrete walls and her desk and bookshelf and bed and the door that had a knob on the outside but not on the inside and that didn't matter because she never wanted to leave.

-

-

"Mr. Lyle, we have had assurances for the past 15 years that this project would not run away, and yet she is gone. How do you explain this?"

Lyle paused before answering as the stenographer keyed in the question, pounding out the keys noisily, as he had been for the past three hours. "With all due respect, I wasn't even around for the 72 hours prior to her escape." He responded, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Yes, but eleven years of working with the girl outweighs such a limited time period, wouldn't you agree?"

_I plead the fifth your honor..._

"The Triumvirate was told that she had been trained against this sort of occurrence, by _you. _Can there have been any mistakes made in the course of that training?" His interrogator, who he had yet to learn the name of, grilled him, strolling around the room like a man in the park. He had been doing this through the entire examination, asking questions as though he were commenting on the weather.

"No. The pretender _I _worked with for eleven years would never have run-" Lyle started, but he was interrupted halfway through his explanation.

"Mr. Lyle, you were removed from this subject's program because you had become too attached, correct?"

"Yes, but you should know that that assumption is incorrect-" Lyle clenched his teeth together as the man cut him off once more.

"According to Mr. Raines you were often too lenient with the girl; you allowed her disciplinary program to slide over the years. The Triumvirate believes that this leniency may be the cause for her escape."

_So you feel that she is more likely to run away from a person she likes than a person she doesn't... hmmm... I can see your logic **perfectly**_. Lyle was sorely tempted to voice his thoughts, but quashed them down as he waited for the damn typewriter to stop entering the question into the report. "I understand that Sir, but,"

"You claim there was no attachment between yourself and the subject, and yet Miss Zurbin alleges to have watched as you disobeyed a direct order for termination of the subject. How do you explain your actions in SL-27? If not through _emotional attachment_?" The man fired off another question before Lyle could respond fully.

Lyle ground his molars together as the grating noise of the typewriter met his ears again. Good God this was driving him insane. "There is no emotional attachment between myself and the subject. I was hoping to protect a Triumvirate investment. She can do a lot more for this company alive than she can dead." He answered, once more cut off before he could finish fully.

"The subject was out of control." The man stopped his stroll around the room, looking at Lyle pointedly.

_Was there a question in there somewhere? _"It took me less than five minutes to get her back under control." Lyle responded. "In the time it took for Miss Zurbin to order her termination, I had stopped her escape and was well on my way to having her return to us of her own accord." He argued.

"And yet she didn't."

_No shit Sherlock. _"The only reason why she did not was because The _Triumvirate representative,_ Zurbin, decided to shoot at her. And not only did the subject not try to retaliate; she disarmed only the people with intent to harm her, and then _apologized _for it. Upon a medical examination none of the sweepers had anything more than a flesh wound, and no one else was hurt." Lyle told him, trying and failing to keep an accusatory tone out of his voice.

"She threatened at least five people at gunpoint Mr. Lyle; do you not call this hostile behavior?" The man asked incredulously.

_Define "hostile."_

"Prior to her termination order and subsequent escape, the girl was insisting she be allowed to speak with you, correct?" His interrogator tried a different line of questioning, coming around to stand behind Lyle so that he couldn't see his face or movements, which was unnerving to say the least.

"As far as I know, Sir." _Seeing as no one told me..._

The examiner paused before speaking, waiting as his typist reloaded a new piece of paper into the carriage. Hard return. Space. Space. Space. "Did you ever encourage an emotional attachment in the subject towards yourself?" Clickitty clack went the typewriter and Lyle swore he was in Hell. He didn't answer. It went without saying that Riley had an emotional attachment towards him-- misguided as it was.

_It's called Stockholm syndrome you twit..._

"Mr. Raines feels that you may have encouraged a friendship with the Pretender in order to take control of the project away from him. It isn't an outlandish claim Mr. Lyle. The subject, out of all the Centre employees chasing her, only responded to you. Upon your removal from the project, she began to show signs of disobedience and hostility. And, down in the Sub-level, I believe _you _were the only person she did not threaten with a gun in her hand. Do you have an explanation for _that_, Mr. Lyle?"

Lyle barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "If I were granted access to the surveillance tapes of her time prior to the escape, I might have an answer for you. But I would like to point out; that Mr. Raines has managed to, in some way, corrupt every Centre project he has yet been granted custody of to this date. And it wasn't until my _removal _from the project, that Riley began acting out."

"You feel this escape is Mr. Raines' fault?" The man asked him.

Lyle sneered_. "I know it wasn't mine."_

-

-

Riley listened as the car crunched over gravel, negotiating the long drive of the house Jarod was leading them to. It was large, painted white with dark green shutters, a wide porch wrapping its way around the portions of the structure she could see. Once a grand piece of property, it was easy to see even for Riley's untrained eye that it had been allowed to fall into a mild state of ruin over the past decade or more. The paint was dirty and peeling, the windows were unwashed, and the varnish on the porch had peeled in places, and allowed the wood to rot slowly over time. It looked inhabitable, despite its dilapidated exterior, and Riley could also see that certain parts of the house seemed to have been repaired recently.

A window slat snapped down in one of the front windows, and Riley caught a glimpse of a boy's face before the blind landed back against the sill. Seconds later, an older man walked out onto the porch. He gave a curious glance to Riley in the front passenger seat before directing a brilliant smile toward the car as he caught a glimpse of the man sitting behind the steering wheel.

Riley scowled; The Centre hadn't told her Jarod had found his father.

Jarod pushed the car door open and stepped out, embracing his father in a familiar sort of gesture, arms wrapped tightly around the older man's back. A spark of jealousy flared for only a millisecond before she silenced it with long-practiced ease. Riley watched with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation; she hoped that Jarod's father wouldn't try to greet her in the same way. She made no move to get out of the car. Jarod hadn't told her what to expect, she hadn't asked. Riley suspected that he wasn't going to go handing out information to her. If she were going to find out anything useful, she would have to ask for it. Riley had news for him; it would take a lot more than that to get her to talk to him.

Riley watched as the shade was pulled up in a different part of the house, the boy dropped it again once he noticed she was watching though, and she couldn't really get a good picture of his face; just a blur of dark features that muddled together and forgot themselves. Jarod turned away from his father after a moment, giving a glance back in Riley's direction. His face wore a look of worried consternation, but it changed instantly to a smile as he turned back to the older man. He looked truly happy to be back with his family. Riley almost felt sorry for luring him back to the Centre, but that didn't make any sense; she couldn't feel sorry, it had been her job. And it was Jarod's job to work for the Centre as well. That was his life.

Riley looked out the windshield towards the older man again, watching him as he fixed a puzzled gaze on his son and then on her, his mouth moving as he said something she couldn't hear. This was Jarod's life _too_, and one he obviously preferred. Riley pushed her palms into her eyes, blocking out her view of the world. This whole mess was frustrating.

She tried factoring Jarod's father into the equation of how to get herself back home. Would the Triumvirate accept his location as a worthy bargaining chip, a testament of loyalty perhaps? Jarod's weakness was his family, if the Triumvirate were to get a hold of Jarod's father, they could very well coerce him into working for them again. It would make certain that Riley wasn't placed on Jarod's pursuit any longer, if the Triumvirate already had him, and had his father to stop him from acting out again. Would it work? She was sure Jarod would work if the Triumvirate was holding his father, but what would happen if either of them managed to escape? Holding on to Jarod once caught was like trying to keep water in cupped hands. Jarod would recognize soon enough that the Triumvirate could never mortally wound his father; they needed to keep him alive if they wanted Jarod's cooperation. They could use that to their advantage of course. Forcing Jarod to watch as his father suffered interminably would be unbearable for him. The Centre would be able to persuade him into doing anything for them. It was a good plan, she thought. There were definite risks if the major died, or if either man managed to escape. But she doubted the older man would be able to break away from a fortress such as the Centre. And Jarod's first course of action, were he to escape, would be to rescue his father. They could use that predictability to their advantage if he ever got loose again. Yes, it had flaws, but if they could anticipate them, it was the best plan they had.

Turning back from his father Jarod walked over to the car, ducking his head in the open door with a smile across his face. "Do you plan on sitting in the car all day?"

_It's not out of the question... _Riley wasn't sure how to answer. If it had been Mr. Lyle or Mr. Raines asking her, she would have known the question was rhetorical. If it had been a sweeper she would have known it meant 'get up before I make you'. If it had been anyone but Jarod she would have known exactly how to respond. But it _was_ Jarod, and he was giving her a choice, and Riley had never responded well to having to make decisions.

Jarod's smile faded a bit. "Riley, you're going to have to talk to me at some point."

_Shows how much you know..._

Jarod ran a hand through his hair before pushing himself away from the car and walking back over to his father. The old man's lips moved and Riley didn't bother to read them, Jarod gave a shrug in return. Riley turned back to watching the house, but no blinds fluttered this time.


	25. Chapter 22: Part II

_The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds, the pessimist fears this is true. _

Will flipped the blind up at the bottom, catching a glimpse of the car again. He dropped it the instant he saw the girl look his way. He was surprised a little to see her there, Jarod had gone to the Centre with the main goal of helping Miss Parker. If Will had expected anyone to be in the passenger seat of the car, it was she, not this young girl. He could hear his father and Jarod talking from the porch, their voices floating in through the screen door. He wanted to know what was going on, but wasn't sure if he could will himself to go meet Jarod again. His pride _(among other parts of his anatomy)_ was still bruised by their argument before he left. Will stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked out of the room, moving towards the front of the house. He paused at the screen door, looking outside again, before shoving it open to stand next to the Major. _Dad _He corrected himself silently. The Major was his father, He should call him Dad.

Will sent another look towards the girl; her eyes were once again focused on their little group, and she looked positively terrified. She reminded him of the small rabbits that he would find grazing by the fence at the edge of their property, a sort of tensed stillness, looking as though she were deciding whether to bolt or not. Now that he was closer, she didn't look so young anymore; small, yes, but older than he had thought, twelve maybe.

"Is Miss Parker alright?" Jarod nodded but didn't elaborate. Damn him. Will balled his hands into fists in his pockets.

"How's the girl doing?" The Major asked, eyes drifting from his sons to the car. Will knew he was trying to get them off the subject of Miss Parker. He could always tell when a fight was brewing between his sons.

Jarod pursed his lips. "She won't talk to me."

"Have you told her anything about...?" _Her parents?_ Will let the question hang unasked.

Jarod looked down at his shoes and then back at the car.

"I'll take that as one big fat 'no'." Will said; his tone accusing though he had tried to reign in the bitter resentment in is voice. If Jarod had allowed him to come along, Will could have at least managed _that. _

Jarod looked back at Will, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "Well, what am I supposed to tell her? It's not something you can just spring on a person!"

_You didn't seem to mind doing that to me..._

"Let me do it."

Jarod eyes widened slightly. "What?"

"Trust me Jarod, you lack a certain... _finesse_... for this." He said, strolling down the steps of the porch and off towards the car, sneering inwardly at the thinly veiled slight he had managed to stick into his argument.

-

-

Riley stiffened in her seat as she watched the boy step off the porch confidently and begin walking over towards the car. She ignored him in the same manner she had ignored Jarod as he slipped into the seat next to her and slammed the door closed. He sat there for a few curious moments, as silent as she was, turned slightly in his seat and watching her profile as though it were the most fascinating thing he had ever encountered. After a fair amount of time had passed, he finally opened his mouth. "Now, I happen to know that _Raines_ would never let you treat anyone with this much disrespect."

Riley's eyes widened in surprise and she turned halfway 'round, mouth opened to tell him to mind his own business, leave her alone. She just wanted to be left alone. She never got to speak the words though. He stopped her.

"And I'll tell you something else. I'm not going to do a thing about it. Neither will Jarod. And the same goes for the Major." He said. Will thought he might know what was going on; his own confused thoughts had traveled down this path with The Major on more than one occasion when he first left the Centre and Donoterase. "If you're looking for discipline for actions you feel you deserve punishment for, you won't find it here. So you can stop the silent act right now. You won't get what you're looking for. No one here is going to get angry, and I don't care how much more comfortable with that sort of treatment you'd feel. This isn't the Centre. Get used to it." He paused a moment to see if she might respond in some way to what he had said. To his surprise Will found himself steadily becoming more uncomfortable with each of his words. Perhaps it was the steadfast way that this girl was supposed to be like him, and yet was so obviously not. Perhaps it was the mere insinuation passing beneath the surface of his statements, dredging up unpleasant reminders of his own 'bringing up' by Raines. He didn't know, but it was making him ill at ease.

Funny that. It used to be that Will would do anything he possibly could to get the Major angry at him. To see what the Major would do when he was angry with him. He would push the line as far as it went and further, and it used to make him uncomfortable that the old man would let him get away with it every time. It had been weird trying to get used to that much freedom. Now it was making him uncomfortable even talking about the time when he had no freedom at all, and everything that that entailed. The girl next to him wasn't having any such feelings though, at least- not that she was showing. The only thing that she looked was angry. Perhaps that was because he had caught on to her when no one else had, perhaps it was because she wasn't going to get her way. Will wasn't sure. But she could throw her little tantrum as long as she liked. He only hoped that she learned quickly it wasn't going to change anything. Will took a deep breath as he halted these thoughts where they were. He had come to talk to her for a reason. "There are some..." He stopped and started again, trying to choose his words but finding them all lacking. "I mean..." No, that was wrong. He tried over, "I need to tell you something and..."

Will gave up for the moment; he would improvise later. "C'mon," He said, beckoning as he stepped out of the car. He frowned when the girl didn't move from her seat, instead scowling down at the upholstery with her brows furrowed, probably using all of the defiance she knew how to muster, Will thought. Sighing as he moved around the front of the car over to her side, Will tugged open the door and leaned in to unbuckle her seatbelt, noting how she tensed fractionally as he came within touching distance. He grabbed up the DSA case at her feet along with the file folder that sat next to it. "C'mon, get out." If his own rearing was any indication, Will knew that she would hardly have the courage not to follow a direct order. Fear of consequences not withstanding— it just wasn't done when you worked under Mr. Raines. "You and I are going on a walk and quite frankly, you've got no say in the matter." He told her, stepping back from the car and moving off in the direction of the woods around the back of the house. He waited a few moments as he heard the sound of grudging footsteps begin to follow him.

Riley caught up with him within a second, scuffing her feet as she walked beside him, head down towards the ground and glowering. Keeping her eyes trained steadily on her feet and not on the fact that this was _outside. _And she wasn't supposed to be _outside. _And didn't he know they were going to be in trouble if anyone caught them out here?

-

-

"I worked with Mr. Raines too." Will started, hoping that maybe if he began with something he knew, the right words would come to him. They had been walking through the woods for some time now, silently, as Will wracked his brain for something to say. "I suppose you would have called me Gemini then; that was my project name at least. I didn't really have a name... I never needed one at Donoterase." He paused before barreling right in. This conversation could end up lasting quite some time if she didn't know... well, if she didn't know what he hoped she already knew. "I'm guessing you know who... _what_... I am." He said haltingly, almost as though he were talking to himself. He may as well have been for how much response his companion was giving.

Riley swallowed hard, trying to work her throat past the pressure bubble lodged there. Yes, she had figured out _what_ he was as soon as he had come close enough to see. He looked just like Him on the surveillance tapes. They didn't tell her they had cloned Him.

"Jarod... interfered... with Them transferring me to the Triumvirate headquarters a little more than a year ago." Will told her, trying to pick the best word to describe what exactly Jarod had done. His mind screamed _stole_, but he didn't want to use that word, because hadn't the Centre stolen him from Jarod in the first place?

Riley was keeping her eyes glued to the ground, kept trying to think of the Centre, the sub-level hallways, the four walls and low ceiling that always reminded her that she was surrounded and she was safe, but she wasn't able to trick her mind. She could smell the difference in the air here, and the crackling sound as their feet crunched over mostly dead leaves, and the strange noises that came from up in the trees which she could only assume were being made by animals. Riley's heart was hammering a quick tattoo against her chest and she couldn't seem to breathe fast enough to get the air she needed. She wanted inside somewhere, back to the familiar creaking and groaning of a building, and the sound of water running through pipes, and the air being pushed around vents.

"That night I was terrified; I thought he was going to kill me." Will laughed a little at this statement, more out of nerves than any real humor, before continuing. "I guess I was thinking pretty much the same way you are now. I just wanted to go back home, back where things made sense anyways." _Because it wasn't really home... _"Most of all, I think I just wanted away from Jarod." He told her, trying to sort through the confused feelings of that night. This was really the first time he was looking at them himself. He could remember that first night in the cabin clearer than anything. He could remember the fireplace casting augmented shadows against the walls, and the heat of it against his back and neck, and the utter sense of dawning horror as Jarod just talked, and talked, and talked. He remembered feeling like he couldn't breathe, like he _shouldn't be able _to breathe. Feeling as though it were all a trick. He had wanted it to be a trick. He had wanted Jarod to be lying. But even then, part of him knew that Jarod wasn't. And after that it was just _hurt. _Just an overwhelming sense of confusion, and so intense that he couldn't really remember much more.

Will took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, shake it out of memory lane. "Mr. Raines... Raines told me that Jarod had murdered my parents and that was why I was at the Centre. He had shown me a picture of him, and had told me that Jarod was responsible for their deaths... and I believed him." Will paused for a moment, old emotions, anger really, at being told such a lie resurfacing again. "He abused his authority... our relationship... He was really the only person I knew. He wasn't a friend, I guess you really can't get friendly with a man like him, but he was my... _(What was he anyway? Mentor? Parent? Provider? Support system?) _...teacher."

Riley swallowed again, keeping her eyes glued to the ground. She didn't want to hear this, didn't want any more of her little wall of familiarity to be torn down. Didn't want to. Didn't want to. Didn't want to. Her own experience was already showing her how much this man had lied to her, and she didn't want to know. She could still trust him. She had to still be able to trust him. If she couldn't, she'd be lost.

"That night, Jarod told me that he never killed my parents. He told me he couldn't have; setting aside the fact that Jarod doesn't kill, my parents never had..." he paused, "never had existed to be targets." Will focused on the trees towering overhead, the squirrel clambering up a trunk, the small sounds of birds as they passed by, the golden shafts of sunlight that would dart between leaves to spot the ground. Anything but what he was saying. "Jarod did say this though; he told me that I come from Him, and He comes from two people that love him very much. I'm still not really sure if that's enough." He admitted, "I guess it's going to have to be." It didn't feel quite right; talking about these sorts of thoughts to a girl he couldn't even claim to know. These were private, very private, so private that he hadn't even mentioned them to The Major. The sort of thoughts that he knew would get the old man upset- no these were thoughts better left unuttered. He wished he knew what he was doing, he wished there was a script for him, he wished he knew how she would react. Most of all he wished she'd say something. Will leaned against a tree trunk, sliding down to sit at its base, between two large roots, and set the DSA case down at his side. Riley sat down cross-legged in the dirt and leaves across from him. "I guess I want to tell you something similar, but I don't really know how."

-

-

The boy walking next to her was having trouble getting words out, and Riley could feel why. The emotions rolling off of him were clogging her senses so that her thought processes were little more than _step: right foot, left foot, right foot, he's saying something, can't understand... _The boy, he hadn't introduced himself... _no, he had, he said his name was Gemini, hadn't he? No, that was past tense, what did he say his name was now?_ He was saying something important, she could tell, and that knowledge alone was probably the only thing stopping her from running away right now. She wanted away from his confusion, wanted away from her own confusion really.

He hunkered down in between some tree roots and Riley stumbled into a sitting position across from him in the sweet smelling undergrowth that scattered the ground. She couldn't recall very much of his monologue thus far, though it must have been making sense in some part of her brain, because he was pushing a silver case across the ground to her, and a small sense of fear was developing as the thought surfaced in her mind that her eyes were strikingly similar to Jarod's.

Will opened the thick file folder on the girl across from him and scanned the pages of DSA slips, he plucked out the first one from the first row, dated in block-style handwriting **12/24/84**He leaned over, opening the DSA case from behind so that the screen was facing her, and pushed the small disk into the playing slot. He pushed himself up off the ground, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans and looking down at the girl in front of him in worry. Somehow he felt that sticking around would only make things worse.

"I'll, uh, I'll just go now." He started to step past her, footsteps crunching in the leaves and feeling that surely even Jarod could have done better than he just had, but he didn't make it very far. Riley's thin hand snaked out, locking in a startlingly strong grip (you wouldn't know it from looking at her) around his ankle as he passed. She was looking up at him with something very close to pleading in her eyes. Will hesitated only a moment before he sat down in the crunching fall leaves next to her and some of that desperation left her gaze. She reached out with a shaky hand and pressed the play button, before turning back to him.

Her eyes were speaking volumes to him, a simple demand that traveled up from the place where her fingertips still rested lightly above his sock, transmitting a weak feeling of terror and making her message that much more clear.

_Don't Leave._

Will nodded and scooted closer.

-

-

Parker stalked across the Mezzanine, poised as always, though she was roiling with anger inside. Immediately after Jarod and the girl had fled the building the typical maneuverings of the Triumvirate began in full force at the Centre, and while it had been no small triumph to watch Raines removed from his office by two triumvirate sweepers who looked as though they kept their brains in their biceps, the joy only lasted for a week. Raines had taken up his position once again as the Centre's resident specter; Parker could kill herself if she didn't think it would make him smug.

It was also a common gossip among the halls that Lyle had vanished from his own office hardly a minute after Raines stepped onto the Centre helipad, who knew what he had been doing in his office in the first place, he was still 'persona non gratis' as far as the Triumvirate was concerned. His disappearance had been a full three days ago, and still no sign of him. Not that she was concerned of course, but it was generally good to know what Lyle was doing, that was all. And if Broots was to be believed-- curse him, but he usually _was _right about this sort of thing, anyone who had contact with Riley before she deserted was next. And that included her.

-

-

Her feet finally stopped when she realized that she had run to the edge of a small lake, and the water was coolly soaking through the tops of her canvas shoes, and the soles were stuck in the wet, muddy lakebed. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes were cold and stinging from the crisp fall air, and she was shivering in nothing but a tee shirt and jeans. She wanted to be able to run further.

She turned around to start walking back to the house _where was she anyway? She couldn't be lost... couldn't be... had to be able to get back inside...a sweeper was going to catch her outside any moment now and then she was going to get it... _when that boy emerged at the edge of the tree line. She glared daggers at him and turned back to the lake, glad that he had shown up; he could lead her to the house, and livid because she knew he hadn't shown up to play guide; he had shown up because he wanted to _talk_. She didn't want to talk. Never wanted to talk again. She could hear him scrambling over the rocks at the edge of the woods behind her and started to walk along the edge of the water, away from him.

The DSA had stopped playing and she had clambered to her feet, kicking up the crunching dead leaves on the ground, and she had run away. Couldn't he tell that she did not want to talk? She didn't want to rehash the events of her own birth. She didn't want to think about the fact that she had been born two months early.

_How disappointed Mr. Raines must have been—all that planning and he still managed to get the runt of the litter... _she thought bitterly.

She didn't want to think about the fact that the surrogate mother carrying her had been killed upon delivery. She didn't want to talk about the fact that among nearly fifty other initiated pregnancies she was the only one that came out resembling a homo sapient life form. She didn't want to talk about the gene splicing technique that allowed three different strands of DNA to develop in the same egg, and didn't want to talk about the enhanced genetic traits that developed. And most of all she _did not _want to talk about the three different _donors _of genetic material.

She couldn't help but marvel at that relatively low number of mutated births that did occur though; the Centre must have figured out what they were doing while they were trying to create the boy behind her... Riley shook her head out of these thoughts and continued her trek along the lake, speeding up slightly without trying to be too obvious about it. Now was not the time to be admiring the recent advancements of science. Especially not when _you are one_. She listened to the slapping footsteps in the mud as the boy caught up behind her, and realized that she couldn't get away from him.

"Riley, stop." Will clapped a hand on her shoulder to stall her, still trying to catch his breath from the run through the woods.

She spun around heatedly, knocking his hand away. "Get away from me!"

The boy (she would really have to learn his name sometime), who had up to that point merely seemed determined, now proved himself to be truly aggravating. His face took on a stiff look, and he sidestepped into her way as she tried to push past him. "No." He really was infuriating. _Well, he is Jarod's progeny. _Her mind chose that time to remind her that she was too.

"Why did you have to tell me!" She screamed at him, and he looked a little blown away, as though her fury was a physical force. She felt as though her fingernails were going to break into the flesh of her palms if she clenched her fists any tighter, and she could feel the small places bruising in the shape of crescent moons and didn't care. "WHY!" She howled again, venting her frustration over everything that lay buried over the past week and a half. She could feel the boy growing angry as well, thought she could feel his outrage that she wasn't even the tiniest bit grateful for what he had tried to give her. Too bad for him, she thought, because this was one _gift_ she had never asked for. She watched a muscle ticking in his jaw, waited for him to erupt. He was there, she could tell. He was ready to. But he _wouldn't_ and that almost made her angrier. Because as much as she knew it would probably hurt her empathic side when he did let off that much resentment, it was always worse when people repressed it. There was never any release, no evaporation, no low point where there was simply no feeling at all. It just stayed there, and pounded on the edge of her vision like a lancing migraine. And he was just letting it stew beneath the surface, putting up a stoic façade just like every other person she had ever met! Riley practically growled at him. "I NEVER _WANTED _TO KNOW!" She snatched a rock up from the cold mud of the lakebed and pitched it out onto the glassy water, feeling only a little bit satisfied as it broke out in a ripple with a loud thunk.

She was absolutely livid. She wanted to break something else, wanted to shatter something else. Wanted to calm down. But there was nothing else to break. She scooped another handful of pebbles and flung them with a force born of desperate agony, watched them scatter out and fling up small droplets of water as they hit. There was a way to calm down, she knew. She glowered over in the boy's direction. She could do it—she could and there would be no one to stop her this time. No one to catch her this time.

_I had to run away from home last time I did that..._

What did it matter? She didn't want to be _here_ anymore did she?

_Mr. Raines will be mad if he finds out I killed his pet project..._

_**If **he finds out... _

_He finds out about everything..._

_-_

_-_

Will watched as she pitched another handful of stones out into the lake, watched her pace around heatedly and knew that when he was in her position less than a year ago he had been ready to do much the same thing. He had done much the same thing during the long, slow time since then. It simply wasn't fair—he was supposed to have a family; a real family, and a real past, he was supposed to be normal, but he wasn't, and he never would be again. Will had hidden it well while he was with Jarod. He had pushed his feelings to the background and pretended like everything was alright. _(Play nice with the other kiddies...) _and no one had ever been the wiser. And really, this _had _to be better than Triumvirate station in Africa. He watched as Riley's tantrum dissipated, and she looked over him with a calculating gaze that Will wasn't sure how to respond to. She looked murderous and it was peculiar how he could see Mr. Lyle in her actions and Jarod in her features.

-

-

Lyle leaned back in his seat, stealing a furtive glance out the open door at the two sweepers guarding it. They were talking in conspiratorial whispers, just a friendly conversation between coworkers it seemed. There had been at least twelve shift changes of the sweepers in front of his door so far, new ones arriving to relieve the old ones every six hours like clockwork. He could (and had) set his watch by them. He passed a hand over his face, ignoring the stubble growing along his jaw line, his red-rimmed eyes stinging with tiredness when they closed. The Triumvirate had been perfectly civil to him throughout these proceedings, odd as that was, and Lyle had been granted all of the barest necessities exempting sleep. What did it matter though; he had gone without sleep before and survived.

His interrogator (he still didn't know his name) had left with the stenographer and entire written report of the examination sometime in the early morning, according to his watch about two o'clock AM. He had had no contact with anyone else for the rest of that time, though it was now late in the day, around seven o'clock. Someone had brought him lunch, but he had been snoozing with his head on his arm and had only woken up to find food (cold food at that), never seeing anyone. He supposed he should be happy they hadn't given him more permanent accommodations; at least he could assume he wouldn't be here for much longer. Mind you, there were worse places he could be sent, and Lyle had to keep that small thought foremost in his mind. Now was not the time to be breathing sighs of relief.

-

-

Time passed, not a great amount of time, but it still seemed like an eternity to Riley, in reality it was hardly a week. Days at the lake house were a strenuous exercise of ignoring any and all attempts of communication and interaction between herself and her companions. Nights were the best time at the house. The Major went to bed early, around ten o'clock. Will stayed up a bit later, though most of the time was spent sequestered in his room; Riley had the inkling that he didn't enjoy spending a great deal of time around Jarod any more than she did. She hadn't yet learned of his reasons, but she figured those would come out in due time. Jarod haunted the halls, hardly ever sleeping. When he did, he usually sprawled out on a couch; looking as though he had lain down for a moment and simply never gotten up again; Riley had seen him tossing and turning where he lay, suffering from nightmares. The man slept so fitfully that he typically woke up just from the noise of her passing by a room. But with the other occupants of the house out of the way, and with all of her practice sneaking around the sweepers in the facility, Riley found him easy to avoid.

Creeping down the hallway, floorboards sending up muffled creaks under her feet, she padded in her socks. No one could hear her, she knew, and if they did, Riley was of the mind that they probably wouldn't do anything about it anyways. The Major and Will had the best of intentions, but her standoffish attitude was beginning to weigh on their last nerves. Jarod hardly seemed to notice or care. Riley knew that he was just as exasperated as any of them with her; he just didn't show it. Jarod never showed anything.

Now Riley tiptoed down the hallway, stomach complaining loudly. She had left the dinner table earlier after having hardly eaten anything (the Major always tried to prod her into eating more "You need to put some meat on those bones," and the like, but Riley had never been disposed of much of an appetite.) Used to more sporadic meals, food showing up in her room after a SIM or snacking periodically while reading a book (this usually ended in her skipping the meal; cold nutritional supplement was even more detestable than it was hot) Riley always seemed to get hungry at the most unusual times of day, including, unfortunately, eleven o'clock at night.

The piece of toast she was munching on now was doing a small amount to help with that current problem, and with the immediate trouble taken care of her mind turned to more pressing matters. She still hadn't been able to contact Mr. Lyle, or anyone else for that matter. She didn't even know what she would say anymore. There was of course the matter of Sarah, but how exactly did one open a conversation on a woman that had been dead for years?

'Hello Mr. Lyle, I'm very sorry that I decided to run away despite having been told on numerous occasions that running away is wrong and the outside world is a dangerous place and that the Centre is the only place that I'll ever be safe. Yeah, sorry about that. Now, tell me about the woman you killed eleven years ago...'

No, Riley doubted very much if that would go over well. And then she needed to find out what she could do to get her life back. It was obvious enough that she would never go back to the facility, or live the life she had had before Jarod came into things. Funny how her life seemed divided like that, into two periods of time, like b.c and a.d, only hers were Before Jarod and After Jarod. No, there was no way she would live the life that she had lived before, after being brought to the Triumvirate's unscrupulous attention in such a forceful manner as this, they would never leave her alone again. And in any case, she was a genius and she couldn't seem to think up anything, what made her think Mr. Lyle would be able to help her? As far as she knew, he was having a hard enough time getting out of his own trouble.

This thought really led to another pressing matter. Riley tiptoed past the door to her left, with the sliver of light coming out the crack at the bottom, and reached the end of the hallway. She pushed open the door to her own room, which Major Charles said had been his daughter's old space, and walked in, quietly closing the door after her. She crossed to the bed that lay underneath the window and knelt down in front of it, giving a tentative look around, as though reassuring herself she was really alone. She hefted up the mattress in both hands and tipped it on its side against the window, feeling in the dark for the sheaf of papers she knew was under it. Her hand came in contact with the papers just as her hold on the heavy mattress slipped and she dropped it back down onto the bed. She hefted herself up onto the bed and crossed her legs one over the other, laying the papers out in an array in front of her. She reached over to her nightstand, looking for the flashlight she had confiscated from the garage of the house, and slid the button on the front into the 'on' position, blinking in the bright light. Her eyes took a long time to adjust to light changes, after having never experienced natural light, and Will told her that it was a pretty common affliction around this house.

Her pupils finally shrank enough that she could see without blinding herself, and she scanned the flashlight over the room around her. The shade was drawn on the window she sat next to, Riley kept it that way at all times, and her... companions, they weren't her family despite what they believed... seemed to be slowly catching on that she didn't enjoy going outside. There was a closet opposite the bed, and it was currently filled with several articles of borrowed clothing, some from Will and some of Emily's that the Major had located locked away in a suitcase in the attic. Everything was ill fitting, Emily was taller than Riley by at least eight inches, and the shirts were all too large in the bust and long in the sleeve. Will's additions weren't much better; though the baseball tee's were built to work as a three quarter sleeve, and as such came down to hang just beyond her wrists, so that she didn't have to roll them every time she wanted to use her hands. The jeans were tailored to fit baggy, and thus didn't look quite as ridiculous on her as some of Emily's pants, which were all styled to hug curves, and only ended up looking strange when they didn't. As long as she wore some of the too-large, wide shoes that Will had also leant to her, the end of the pants just bunched around her ankles rather than running along the floor. It was no big matter either to cinch the waist with one of Will's belts so the pants stayed around her hips and not her feet.

The matter of finding Riley some actual clothes was a slight problem. Riley refused to go anywhere outside where there were that many people, thank you very much, and despite Jarod's protestations on other matters, he seemed to understand, or at the very least tolerate, her feelings on this one. Of course, the next option was that someone go to the store and get clothes for her, but Riley was also uncomfortable having anyone quite close enough to be taking her measurements. It didn't really matter to her at any rate; she wouldn't be needing their clothes much longer if she had anything to say about it. Buying herself clothes would be committing to permanent accommodations; it would be like admitting that she was never going home.

Riley continued to scan the room with the flashlight; it was a find of Will's actually. The house was set off in a less habitated part of the state, and the electricity was prone to outages. There were flashlights and batteries all over the house in strange little alcoves, covered in dust with leaking batteries. Will was an okay sort really, the only person around the house she could stand. They spent most of their time during the day in the detached garage off the side of the house, tinkering around with the mechanical things they found there, or searching through the odd moving boxes that had never been unpacked, despite being opened and closed on several occasions. There was an old truck in there that Will was working on, fixing the engine and such in small spurts, so that it was an ongoing project. The garage was roughly the size of a small SIM lab, and the blank plaster walls and concrete floor made the run through the side yard each day worth the terror to Riley, if she might feel at home when she got there. Riley didn't talk much, she still stuttered every time she worked up the resolve to open her mouth, though she listened to Will attentively as he thought aloud or told her those bits of information about Jarod and his family that he had managed to gather. He was a good source of information, and the insights into the dynamics of the family were slowly helping Riley to get a hang on whatever it was she had gotten herself into. He seemed to be the only person in the house who didn't expect anything out of her.

Riley didn't really need to look at the papers on the bed to know what was in them; she had read them more than once. They were memos, memos coming through the lines of communication between the Centre and the Triumvirate station in Africa. Riley had been hacking into the recent records at the Centre through Jarod's computer after everyone in the house had gone to sleep. It had started as an attempt to plan a way to get her life back, but now it was her only way of knowing what was going on with the people she had left at the Centre. Riley had known when she left that Mr. Lyle and Mr. Raines would have to explain her disappearance somehow, and the entire corporation's hierarchy would be in trouble over Jarod and her managing to beat the Centre's infallible security system, but Riley didn't realize it would be this bad. It had been naïve of her to think that Mr. Raines was above that much scrutiny by the Triumvirate, but the man had hardly ever dissuaded her of the opinion, and the same went for Mr. Lyle. It was strange to think that the men who controlled her life had to answer to someone even higher than them.

When Riley was truly young she hadn't even known there was someone higher than them. The Triumvirate was just a word to her, an unknown body that was constantly shouting things like "Stop That!" and "Not good enough!" And if she thought hard about it she could vaguely remember times when Mr. Raines would tell her, "The Triumvirate isn't pleased with your results Riley." This sort of statement was always followed by bad things happening, things that she didn't like to think about. The Triumvirate was just this big bad entity that made her life miserable.

Evidently, her youthful minded reasoning was very and truly wrong. It was spelled out rather clearly in the sheets of paper in front of her, dates of departure, dates of arrival, the vaguest of catalogs about the events afterward. Riley knew there would be more detailed records somewhere, but she wasn't going to bother trying to find them. She had the information she needed right here, and had little time as it was to sneak aboard Jarod's computer to go on her hacking expeditions. She had pieced together a good deal about what had happened to her links so far, now was just a matter of what would happen next.

Mr. Raines had been sent to Africa. He had gone on the morning of November the 24th and arrived at Triumvirate station sometime very late that night, or early the next morning given how you looked at it. There were also records of several meetings he had engaged in with various members of the upper echelon, but they were all encrypted, and with Jarod constantly lingering about the computer room like some lost specter, Riley hadn't yet had a great deal of time to try to decode them. There was another memo sent from Triumvirate station to the Centre, Mr. Parker's office if one was looking for specifics, which said Mr. Raines would be returning to his position shortly. Nothing more than that though, and Riley had yet to find a memo stating date of departure or arrival, and could only assume the older man had not yet been allowed to leave.

The mystery of Mr. Lyle was unfortunately, not nearly as completed. It seemed for all purposes that he had just vanished. The rent for his apartment had been paid on the 30th, two days ago, straight through the Centre accounting branch, and actually from a Centre owned account, and not through his own. His computer had last been accessed through the network on the 28th, and only the haziest of dispatches was sent to the Triumvirate station, merely stating that _someone, somewhere, somehow, _had gotten him into custody.

Riley tensed, eyes immediately seeking the light beneath the crack of the doorjamb, looking for the dark shadows of feet as she heard the floorboards creak outside her room. She held her breath for a moment, praying for the steps to pass the entryway, before gathering up the papers and shoving them hastily beneath the pillow behind her. The light in the hallway clicked off but Riley kept her eyes glued to the crevice at the bottom of the door. She heard the sound of typing moments later and allowed herself a breath of relief. Riley groped behind her for the pillow, but decided against bringing the sheaves of paper back out, she wouldn't risk the crinkling while someone else was up and about.

Bringing her hands back in front of her, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms about the top of them, resting her chin on the small space between her kneecaps. Riley curled herself inwards as she thought, a habit formed at the age of five that no one had ever bothered breaking her of. It was a pose she could take up practically anywhere, sitting in a chair or hunkered down at the base of a wall, or like this, sitting on her bed; Riley had long ago learned to still her body even as her mind overloaded itself.

She had to talk to Mr. Lyle; she had to find out what was going on. _How? Jarod would never let her... Jarod doesn't have to know... how would she get rid of them?... how could she reach Mr. Lyle? Office phone... no, tapped... anything she did was going to be tapped... she needed an encryption..._

Riley paused in her thoughts as she heard muffled voices coming from the study down the hall, Jarod's _dulcet_ tones being answered by another man who was most certainly not the Major, she was positive. Riley slid off the bed noiselessly and toed over to the door, opening it a hairsbreadth and peering out into the hallway. The door to the study was open and Riley could make out Jarod's back from her skewed angle, better hearing now the voice of his companion. But it didn't matter how well she heard, as Riley could also _see _Dr. Sydney sitting at his desk at the Centre, and she could recognize the kindly paternal look blooming across his face that had marked the entrance to each of her psychiatric evaluations with the man. Jarod was speaking with him face to face via computer, which Riley realized, smiling deviously inside, had an _encrypted _connection. Riley closed the door, holding the knob in her fist to silence it, and slipped back to her bed.

She began to formulate a strategy.


	26. Chapter 23: Epilogue

**_Murphy's Law of Thermodynamics:_**_ Things get worse under pressure. _

* * *

**Epilogue**

Riley woke with a jolt, jerking upright in bed, met by the pre-dawn light filtering in through the cracks in the boarded up window next to her. The thin blanket was twisted around her legs, a testimony to her thrashing, and as she rolled over it dropped off the mattress entirely. The shirt she was wearing clung to the light sheen of sweat on her back and she shivered lightly in the cool air. The watch strapped around her left wrist was too large and the result of a scam she'd pulled in a department store, much like everything else she owned, and the dials pointed to five-thirty in the morning.

The bare wooden boards of the floor were practically frozen as she swung her legs over the side of the mattress, and she pulled her feet back to the bed quickly, rummaging for socks from the black duffel bag at the foot. She grabbed a shirt from the bag as well, getting up from her warm nest of blankets and moving over to the cracked mirror that hung on the opposite wall. The ugly pink scar on her right shoulder throbbed painfully and she traced the jagged flesh with a finger, fishing for the pain pills she kept in her pocket. She had slept in her clothes again—a grey tank top and blue jeans, from the day before. Her clothes at the Centre had been baggy and androgynous, with day clothes nearly the same as nightclothes, and her mind held little distinction between the two out here either. She pried open the lid of the orange prescription bottle and tossed two pills back into her throat, swallowing them dry with a slight grimace.

She could hear the beginning hum of traffic outside the run down building, and figured a black town car would probably show up in the parking lot later that day. Today would be the day to leave. She shrugged into a shirt and pulled on a pair of shoes—sneakers: black lace-ups, running shoes.

She looked around the barren room contemplatively; the paint on the walls was chipped, and while she thought it might have once been white, there was little evidence of that unspoiled color now. The floorboards were a mouldy and washed-out gray, and sent up small puffs of dust with her every step. There was no furniture, exempting the mattress that lay on the floor, in the corner of the room. Her bag rested at the foot of it, a small black duffel containing everything she owned. Riley stole a peek out of a crack in the middle board covering the window, checking the lot below her hidey-hole for any sign of sweepers. She itched to move, though there weren't any down there. She could wait a bit longer, before going outside.

Her thoughts turned to the dream that woke her up. She could remember precious little about it, though she had been having this same dream for years on end now. It was a simple remembrance of the first time she had ever faced the Triumvirate. She had been four, and it had been directly after her first attempt at running away. It had haunted her dreams for as long as she cared to remember. The nightmares had been even worse lately than they were usually, spawned, Riley thought, by the more recent events with the Triumvirate, and her more recent escape. They left her drained and shaking long after she woke, and seemed to speak from the deepest regions of her memory. They turned her into a sobbing little girl again, a pitiful little mass of weak behavior, with every anxiety held on the surface for her enemies to see. She hated that she had once been like that. And she hated that they were turning her back into that again. She would not allow them to. Never again.

She could only remember bits and pieces from the day the Triumvirate had shown up at the Major's house in Colorado. After killing Zurbin she had stolen the woman's car, all of the sweepers were otherwise occupied up at the house, and no one had been there to stop her. After watching Jarod at the wheel for the better part of three days, it had been easy enough to drive, though the throbbing pain in her shoulder was nearly blinding, and she found herself swerving on the road more than once. She had made it to the town within half an hour, and ditched the car in a side alley, grabbing a left-behind suit jacket from the back seat to cover her bleeding shoulder.

Breaking into a vet's office had been easy work. It was a Sunday, and nearly every place of business in the town had been closed. She had stopped the bleeding and broken into a glass case containing various pain meds for cats and dogs, using the only thing available; the doctor's small metal stool. The glass had cracked and splintered, but the edges still held in their frame, and Riley managed to cut her arm up pretty badly in the process of getting the pain pills, but by that point, she was beyond caring. She had stitched the bullet wound in the front of her shoulder, making a horribly amateurish job of it, forced to use her left hand, and was shaking badly from the loss of blood. She had only been able to wrap the back of her shoulder, the exit wound, in gauze and hope it was enough. She had stumbled away from the vet clinic dizzily, without an idea of where to go or what to do when she got there. She had ended up sleeping at a bus depot, and caught the first lift out of town in the morning. The suit jacket had a wallet in the pocket, and she used the money to pay her fare and buy a sandwich once she reached the next stop. She couldn't take the Triumvirate car any farther than she already had—the Centre's fleet had tracking devices in the event that they were stolen. The break in at the vet clinic had made it into the neighboring town's newspaper, and Riley hadn't even stayed the night. She picked another bus and went to another town, and another, and another.

It had taken nearly three days of staring at the cloth-backed seat in front of her for her to come to terms with the fact that she was never going back home—if that place could even be considered home any longer. Riley knew Mr. Raines would never sanction her termination, but it seemed the Triumvirate hadn't cared about his opinion one way or another. And now she had killed one of their own, there was simply no coming back from anything like that. The African outfit would be out for her blood, and she had no way of protecting herself from them. She had no knowledge of the outside world, no birth certificate, no driver's license, no guardian over the age of 18, no money, no place to stay, no place of employment, and no real desire to acquire any of them. All Riley wanted was to be able to go home. She wanted to erase the past three months from existence. She wanted to have her old life back. But of course, none of this was possible.

Riley had snuck into a pharmacy at one point, pocketing at least five full bottles of pain meds from behind the counter while the attendant was in the bathroom. That had helped her deal with the spiking pain in her shoulder, and allowed her to function well enough to begin taking a mild interest in the people around her. For the longest time she just watched them, afraid to get too close, afraid to let them get too close to her. Occasionally she interacted, talking to the food vendor on the streets, playing mind tricks with the saleslady at the department store as she made off with unpaid merchandise. The money in the wallet had run out within a week, and Riley hadn't felt right about siphoning off Centre funds as Jarod did. Instead, she stole from Jarod's bank account, fitting justice she thought.

It had been months since then, months of avoiding Triumvirate sweepers, and months of strangely running into sweepers from the Centre. It seemed that someone from the Centre felt her continued existence was necessary, and Willie and various other "friendlies" had baled Riley out as she was attempting escape from the Triumvirate lackeys on at least two occasions already. Despite the offered help, they hadn't communicated with her at all during those brief times, ignoring her persistent questions. It was strange.

A loud honk sounded outside the building and Riley nearly jumped out of her skin. She moved across the room after checking the door to see that the numerous padlocks she'd drilled in place were still holding, and stole a glance out the cracked window to the lone car in the parking lot—a dark blue Toyota truck, beat up and an old model, it fit in well with the surroundings. The black sweeper in the driver's seat sent her a short wave as he drank a cup of drive-thru coffee. Riley shuddered at the thought that she hadn't heard him pull in. He started up the car as she watched and pulled out of the lot, passing surreptitiously by a small caravan of black towncars. Riley sank down the wall, banging the back of her head against it in self-remonstration.

"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid." At least Willie had given her some warning.

Riley grabbed up her bag from the floor next to her with a frustrated jerk and hurried across the room, listening to the sounds of the parking cars and muffled voices outside. She could easily imagine the set of dark sweepers, exiting the cars with shoes that tapped and clicked against the pavement, scowling upwards at her window, directing different teams to cut off different exits of the building. She had to move fast. She sped through the dials of the padlocks on her door, unlatching them and pulling it open roughly. The room at the end of the hall held easy access to the fire escape off the side of the building, and Riley headed off towards it, ducking inside the door just as she heard several pairs of footsteps begin pounding up the stairs. Taking a calming breath before pushing the window open, forcing it up through grimy sliders, she stepped outside. The platform was old and rusted, and gave her the impression that it would fall to pieces at any moment. She threw her duffel down to the street level—there was nothing in it even remotely breakable, and slid down the sides of the ladder, not bothering with rungs. She hopped the last few feet and headed over to the industrial size trash bin pushed up against the building. Uncovering a small car battery with a demonic smirk, she walked over and attached the live clamps to the bottom rung of the escape ladder. After this was done, she scooped up her small bag and sprinted down the street, to the alleyway by the next building over. After a few moments, she heard a pained shout coming from behind her, just as she gained the darkened lane. She could hear the footsteps behind her of the team that was left outside the building and dashed further down the alley, sparing a glance behind her, but no one had quite caught up yet.

A strong arm snaked out and grabbed her as she passed a pile of abandoned bins, it wrapped around her middle and a hand was pressed tightly over her mouth before she could scream. The man pulled her back behind the bins with him, kicking in a small window at ground level, and pushing her down in front of him to slip through the jagged glass first. The glass scratched her back and tore a small slit into her shirt, but she paid it little notice as she spun around to meet her attacker, her chest heaving in fear. She couldn't scream for help—that would alert the Triumvirate sweepers outside, and she didn't know her way around this building, the man would catch her before she even reached the door out of the basement. She picked a large camping knife out of her pocket, this one lifted from a hunting store, and raised it chin level, waiting for the man to come into reaching distance. This knife wasn't nearly as nice as the one she had left behind in the Centre, nor did it give her that same level of comfort—she had known it wouldn't even as she was stealing it, but she didn't need comfort from it, she needed a way to defend herself. This knife had already begun gathering its own history with her, even after only a month, and it didn't feel so strange in her hand now.

The small amount of light filtering into the room was completely doused as her attacker crawled through the window after her. The dim glow from the casement behind him lit up the side of his face and Riley recognized Willie's familiar visage. She lowered her knife a bit, but didn't move out of her defensive posture. He shot her an annoyed look, and covered her mouth with a hand again, one arm wrapped around the back of her head and one hand in front of it, so that she couldn't pull away. He dragged her away from the window angrily with a hissed, "_Don't make a sound."_

Riley nodded her understanding against his rough palm and he released her, grabbing her uninjured shoulder and steering them both further back into the shadows of the cellar as shiny shoes passed by the window up at the street level. Riley's heart raced quicker with each passing second, but the men left the alley after a few minutes, uttering muffled curses as they went. Riley turned to Willie after they were gone and asked the question that she had asked each other time.

"Why are you helping me?"

Willie turned away from the window with an irritated snarl. "_Would you prefer it if I didn't?" _

Riley didn't answer him. Her experiences outside had given her a good enough understanding of sarcasm now, and she recognized the dig for what it was. He moved off around the perimeter of the room, navigating through the strange accumulation of debris down there, and Riley followed after him. He barked his shin more than once on some dark and looming bit of furniture, squinting his eyes in the gloom, but Riley's eyes preferred the dimness more than anything and she had no such problem in shadowing him.

"How is the Jarod pursuit coming?" Riley asked from behind his back, purposely wanting to aggravate the man for his last comment. She had heard through the rumor mill that Jarod, the Major, and Will had gotten away, managing to sprint out the side kitchen door minutes after she had been caught by the sweeper who took her to Zurbin. Where two sweepers may have been able to catch one of them—which really would have been like catching all of them—one sweeper was no match for the three men. The Centre had underestimated their own experiments again, and they had lost because of it.

Jarod hadn't contacted her; Riley doubted whether Jarod really knew where she was. It didn't matter; Riley knew that it must have become painfully obvious in a way that he had never been willing to accept before, that she did not want to be with him. They were not her family. She didn't belong with them. She had nearly gotten them all caught, it had been time to cut their losses.

Willie pulled up short at her question, and Riley had to do the same or risk walking headlong into his back. He shot her a glare over his shoulder before pressing on again, and Riley continued to follow him at a slightly slower pace.

"Have you ever heard of _minding your own beeswax_?" He asked her, irritated, when she dared to repeat the question.

"No." She answered him truthfully.

He let out a huff of frustration and she could imagine the man rolling his eyes. "Well, now you have."

A few more moments passed in exasperated silence before Willie turned around with a frustrated glare. He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her towards the chair he had just stubbed his toe on.

"Sit."

Riley sat.

He reached inside the inner fold of his jacket and Riley tensed automatically, her heart rate quickened inside her chest though she knew her reaction was absurd. Willie would hardly pull a gun on her directly after helping her avoid just such a fate, but she still stiffened. Riley had grown wary over the past month, and with all of the nightmares she had had of being caught by a dark suited man with a gun, the reaction really shouldn't have come as a shock. He only pulled out a piece of paper though, wrapped around a small cellular phone with a rubber band. He shoved both items into her hand and started walking away.

"Wait! What are these for?" She shouted after him, hurrying to keep up. Willie didn't stop though, speaking with his back turned to her as he gained the door that led upstairs and outside again.

"I'm not your babysitter, kid. Just go to the address they gave you and wait."

Riley frowned at the instructions, unfolding the paper with a scowl. It was a simple address and phone number, the place she was going was an apartment building.

In Blue Cove.

-

-

Riley sank down onto the couch in the apartment, looking around her with interest. The air smelled like cleaning products, foreign scents to Riley all mixing as one in the air. Didn't smell bad exactly, not in the way that the infirmary at the Centre had, or the renewal wing, or the vet clinic in Crested Butte. She supposed she should be thankful for that. The surfaces of the shelves and tables were polished enough that she could see the outlined reflection of her form in the wood as she stood over them. Someone had steam cleaned the carpet, and mopped the floor in the kitchen recently. There wasn't a speck of dust in the place. The couch she sat on faced a large entertainment area, with a streamlined, flat TV and modern stereo system. There was an Asian styled painting above the cabinet, though the low lighting of the room didn't allow Riley to get a good picture of it from where she sat. There were no overhead lights in the apartment, but rather several desk lamps, each with a distinctly oriental feel. Riley had felt strange about turning any of them on, and the oddly red light atop the television cabinet, which had been left on when the owner of the apartment left, was the only source of illumination.

She had entered the apartment through a back window, walking down a short hallway and through some Japanese screens to get to the room she was in now. A bedroom was back there, with the door open a crack, and she had been able to see the made bed with a neatly pressed suit lying out at the foot. She had passed it thinking about how much she liked that tie on him, but didn't enter. A bathroom had been across the hall from it, with all the accoutrements one usually finds lying around the sink, instead tucked up neatly in the medicine cabinet. The kitchen was an open affair, with tile countertops and a nice set of chef's knives, set off to the side of the kitchen next to the refrigerator. It seemed a little odd to Riley, this abundance of cutlery, when there was hardly any food in the cooler. In fact, it seemed as though the appliance's real function was to display the numerous telephone numbers and magnets of different dining establishments, blending into the motif of the apartment rather well, they were once again all Asian. There was a linen cabinet set at the opposite end of the living room, hidden behind white doors that blended in with the pristine color of the walls. It seemed to her as though the apartment should be bigger than it was—the dimensions didn't seem to fit congruently, as though there should be an extra room in the apartment, but she couldn't see it. Riley restrained brutally her natural curiosity and did not go snooping around the apartment any more than it had taken her to reach from the back window to the living room, to sit here on the couch. She knew what a gross invasion of privacy that it would be for him. And the disrespect it would show. She could only imagine what he would do if he caught her at it.

Riley could tell from the wall designs, the décor, and the strange affinity for Asian restaurants, that it was his apartment, but her mind was still trying to wrap around the idea that this was his _home_. It had a cold feel to it, an unlived-in feel, which she couldn't quite fit into her mental picture of him. It was interesting though, to find this part of him—there was much to be said about a person by what they chose to surround themselves with.

She waited there for a time unknown. Her eyes itched with tiredness as she caught her head from nodding against her chest. The light green glow of the clock on the TV stand charted the minutes, and the whole place was deathly quiet. Even at the Centre Riley had been used to more noise than this; sweepers passing by her door, calling in checks on their radios. She pricked her ears for any noise, but could only faintly hear the cars outside. After a while, even the hum of traffic from the street outside seemed to slow. And as she sank lower onto the couch, she realized with a contented smile, that the cushions smelled like his aftershave.

-

-

The first thing he noticed upon entering his house was the young girl sleeping on his couch. Her form was curled up on itself, arms wrapped tightly around one of the small couch pillows, and her nose buried in the cushions. It was a little endearing actually. It seemed that she had fallen asleep waiting for him. He scowled when he noticed she still had her shoes on.

"Really now, I thought I taught you some manners..." He muttered beneath his breath as he crossed the room to wake her. When he reached her sleeping form though, he hesitated. She was shivering lightly. Rolling his eyes to himself, he moved to the end of the couch and unlaced the sneakers she was wearing, slipping them off her feet and setting them by the door. He next retrieved a blanket from his room and draped it over her. He could afford to let her sleep for a while.

There was a large suit jacket flung over a small black duffel bag next to the couch, and he moved into the kitchen and out of earshot to rifle through the contents. Most of the items were completely innocuous; clothes, a toothbrush, and the like, though a few did catch his interest. A small black handgun; Sig Sauer, a standard Triumvirate sweeper issue—the Centre went for the 9mm more often, but for those Triumvirate Zulus it had to be a Sig. A hunting knife as well, nice blade with a brown leather handle, it looked oddly proportioned for Riley's body though; she can't have been looking very long when she bought it. Next came four different bottles of pain meds—none of which had her name on the label—and all with rather high prescriptions he thought, given her build. These sorts of pills were for someone in a lot of pain. Walking back out into the living room, he turned her over—a bit roughly he admitted to himself, but she slept like the dead anyway; at least, she did with _these pills_ in her system. It didn't take long to find the angry red scar on her shoulder. Damn thing still had stitches.

He poured himself a drink—if he kept this up he'd turn into his sister—and sat down at the kitchen table, looking over a file while he waited for her to wake. He could see her, through the door to the adjoining room, sleeping peacefully for the first time in nearly a month.

Lyle had had people following her of course. Sweepers, from the Centre, keeping tabs on where she went, whom she spoke with, what she ate, when she slept. She was still his ticket to the top after all was said and done; these were the sorts of things he needed to know. It was his own secret project now, and with the quagmire the Centre had begun sinking slowly into lately, everyone else was just busy enough that it should remain a secret. Raines was dead—or he was _supposed_ to be, as long as everyone thought the old man was worm food then he might as well have been. Parker had begun _hearing voices; _Lyle was delighting in teasing her with that knowledge. Her _inner sense, _ Sydney called it, Lyle just had to wonder where this _inner _non_sense _had been for the other some odd 35 years of her life. And Lyle, well, Lyle had plans of his own for all of them... dear old dad especially.

Riley wasn't adjusting as well as one might have hoped, though her habits kept her pretty well under the radar. She stuck to the city, and while it seemed that the teeming masses had been overwhelming at first, she had gotten used to them over time—a lot of time. There were so many people that few paid her any attention, and her anonymity seemed to balance her fear out. She hadn't actually gotten a job yet, her age was a great inhibitor, there was nowhere she could go that people wouldn't ask questions. She was a bit of a recluse. He was just happy she hadn't been picked up for truancy yet. It was easy enough to see that she was drifting. Riley had always had a purpose before; a project to work on, someone to please, a problem to solve. When all these motivators were stripped away, she was simply left without a goal. Riley was truly and thoroughly institutionalized, that had been Raines' objective after all, he had wanted her dependent upon them. Lyle himself actually preferred survivors—they made better partners, better rivals. He could teach her survival skills—she'd always had them after all, they had just been buried. He'd start now. Tonight. He couldn't expect her to remain in the submissive role she had always had before. No matter how hard that self image was in her psyche, after time outside the Centre, she would naturally begin to question him, question her position, and begin to rebel. It would be difficult to deal with it then; she would be out of his control at that point. He could start changing her position tonight, and guide it to how he wanted her to be. Then he could make her a real adversary to the Triumvirate. Allied with him of course. Jarod had once asked him what he wanted, and Lyle had responded truthfully—

_"I want everything"_

And he would get everything. And she was going to help him.

-

-

Riley didn't like the sensation of waking up. It was a halting experience in her mind, being taken abruptly from one state of being to another, going from one setting and action to find yourself lying in a room you weren't in before. And besides, she rather liked it here—it was warm, and she was being kept warm, by a soft _something _on top of her. She snuggled a bit deeper into the... whatever it was that she was lying on... and hoped to fall back into that blissful state of no dreams and pure contentment. Where exactly was she anyway? She was lying on something soft, and, she pressed her palm flat into it, squishy. It was comfortable. It smelled good to. Smelled a bit like... soap... and shaving cream... and she didn't shave so where exactly had shaving cream come into the picture?

_Oh. Right._

And that was the point that she remembered where she had fallen asleep. She cracked an eye open. Yes, definitely the room she had fallen asleep in. Riley sat upright with a groan, checking the watch around her wrist. Eleven forty-five, was he home yet? She heard the scraping of a chair on the floor.

_Damn._

"Fully conscious, or did you want to try the bed next?"

Yes, that was definitely his voice behind her.

_Damn._

She turned on the couch sheepishly, not quite meeting his eyes, fingering the blanket draped across her middle. "Sorry, Sir."

He moved from where he was leaning languidly against the doorframe of the adjoining room and beckoned her to follow him into the kitchen.

"Your shoes go by the door. I don't want to find them on my furniture again."

Riley got up and walked after him, her face flushing red. _Oops. _"Sorry, Sir." She hoped the night was not going to continue in this vein.

"Just don't do it again." He answered her shortly, taking a sip from a glass tumbler sitting at the table.

Riley looked at the glass curiously. The liquid inside was amber colored, poured over ice. "What is that?" She asked without even thinking of it, but the instant the question was out of her mouth she realized her error. She waited for a rebuke of some form but it didn't come and she frowned inwardly at the incongruity. He only shrugged at her question as though nothing had happened.

"This?" He gestured to the glass in his hand and she nodded hesitantly. He rolled his eyes. "This is alcohol. This is something you will not touch until you are twenty-one, and not a day before." He told her tersely. "I have a difficult enough time figuring out what to do with you when you're sober." This last bit was mumbled before he took another drink and motioned at a chair across the table. "Sit, if you like."

Riley sat. This was a bit awkward, talking to him outside of the Centre. Riley had expected him to act as he had within the Centre—as her superior, as her handler, but even through his annoyance at her, his behavior was supremely different from what she had expected. She expected punishment. She expected at least a remark as to the death of Miss Zurbin. She expected orders. It was odd though, that none of these things were forthcoming. He was talking to her; Riley didn't even know how to describe it, just differently. He'd let her sleep on his couch... after giving her a blanket and removing her shoes gently enough that she didn't wake up... She eyed the black duffel bag across the table from her, oh yes, and apparently, going through her things had been on the agenda as well. _Hmm_. That bit actually wasn't so different.

He picked something up from the table next to him and pushed it across to her. Riley took the thin slip of plastic from him and prepared herself for an argument. He raised an eyebrow as if to say '_well_' but she didn't say anything. She waited for him to speak first, to see what his stance on the matter was. She wasn't trying to be impertinent, just... prepared. She expected that he might hit her, but he didn't. He didn't even move from his seat across the table, just took another sip of whatever it was that he was drinking and waited through the pregnant pause until he understood she wasn't going to speak. The way he was acting, it was strange. Riley decided to take her cues from him.

He looked at her meaningfully. "_Parker?_"

Riley looked down at the driver's license under her hand. She was sixteen now—had turned legal driving age almost a week ago. Birth date: December 24, 1984. And it was the year 2001 now. Yes, that made her sixteen. She looked at the name printed beside her picture.

"Yes Sir."

He gave her a long look. "_Why?"_

"It's my name... Isn't it?" She felt like asking his permission on the matter, because it put the control back into his hands. Riley still wasn't accustomed to steering the path of her own life, and she didn't really like it all that much. Or she hadn't so far. And when she was with him, he was supposed to be taking charge, wasn't he?

The corner of his mouth twitched up and he shrugged. "I guess it is. If you want it." He reached back across the table to get the card, left-handed owing to the glass that he still held in his right.

Riley's eyes widened in surprise at the thickly bandaged hand, taken from his pocket for the first time that evening, white medical gauze wrapped tightly around a _thumb. _A thumb that was certainly, and had certainly, not been there for the two years previous this night. She looked at him dumbly. "Well that's a recent development."

There was no mistaking the look he was sending her—the way his lips turned up only slightly in the corners, smugness written all over his face; he was _smirking. _"Things are changing, Riley."

Riley tried to read into his words. Why, after months of estrangement, had he suddenly summoned her like this. Whatever _this _was. It was strange, like everything else about him that night, that he hadn't yet mentioned at all what the meeting was about. Not that Riley minded meeting with him of course—she had wanted to see him since before she had even left the Centre. And now she was here, and she was seeing him, and she had absolutely nothing to say or ask. It seemed that in the past few months, every single one of the things, the problems, which before Riley had considered practically matters of life and death, had evaporated of their own accord. As though her mind had been working them through one by one subconsciously, and reached an internal solution for each. She had come to terms with them, it seemed.

Sarah was dead; she couldn't do anything to change that now. The truth was that she had been dead to Riley long before she had learned of it— she hadn't seen the woman in years, and whatever memories she had of her only surfaced in distorted dreams. Nothing about her had been real for some time now. Riley remembered why she had been terminated, recognized now that that was simply the way things at the Centre, at the Facility, at the Triumvirate _worked. _Sarah had been preparing to take Riley away. And for that, Riley could almost hate the woman. She had been plotting to take Riley away from the only place she could ever be safe. Riley could hate Sarah for that the same way that she could hate Zurbin for that, and in some small measure, hate herself for running away in the first place, and for doing everything to get her to this point she now found herself at. They had killed Sarah to protect her, just as they had always said.

Riley viewed the world around her; the world that she was now forced to live in, with a wary kind of respect. The kind that you use while petting a trained attack dog—they weren't going to bite your hand off just now, but they _could. _This idea that the world was dangerous had actually been the subject matter of an argument between herself and Jarod one evening at the lake house. Jarod insisted that the world was a wonderful place, if she would only allow it to be. He had even tried using himself, Will, the Major, as _examples. _Examples that the world wasn't going to hurt her. Riley had realized that evening just how naïve Jarod could be when he wanted, that he didn't realize just how screwed up he was. The world wasn't safe. Most regular people couldn't even make it through on their own without popping medication, or seeing counseling. And for a _pretender_, the stakes were only raised. They didn't exist as real people, according to the government they didn't exist at all. And if the government ever did find out about them, anything could happen. They would be turned into criminals, mutants or something. People would never understand. And for an empath, it was even _worse. _She couldn't even walk down the block without being accosted by the emotions of the guy who had just got laid off, or landed himself a parking ticket, spilled coffee down his shirt. Riley had never really been able to grasp that inside the Centre, or the Facility. Mr. Raines had explained so many times, but she hadn't been able to truly comprehend until she left. Of course, the world didn't offer the immediate danger that she had always imagined; there weren't people trying to kill her on the streets or the like, and she could exist in it as long as she stayed under the radar. It was staying under the radar that was the problem.

"How are things changing Sir?" She asked him quickly, hopefully. "Does that mean that I can come _home_?" Was that why he had called her here?

He slammed his glass down on the table in front of him, and it thumped with a hollow sound, ice cubes sloshing and clinking around in the glass. Riley slid back in her seat, away from him, frightened of the way he was looking at her—angry and frustrated in a way she couldn't remember him ever being before, not with her anyway. "The Centre is not your home anymore Riley! Try to understand that!" He looked so positively disappointed in her, so angry that she had actually made him say it.

She returned his anger force for force in a way that surprised her. Spurred on by a desperate thing clawing inside her chest that could not believe what he was saying, and absolutely hated him for agreeing with _Them. _For agreeing that she could not go back. "It will _always _be my home! It's the only place I belong!" She retorted, anger causing her to rise to her feet, fists clenched at her sides.

"You don't belong there any more Riley!"

"But-" _But she **needed **it._

He looked across the table at her sadly, his voice dropping to a poison edge that she didn't want to listen to, yet seemed to be penetrating further in her mind than even his yelling had. "There is no argument Riley. As it is, there is a standing order for you to be shot on sight. You have no allies at the Centre any longer. No one save me."

Riley shook her head in the negative, willing him to be lying, which was strange, because she had never wanted him to lie to her before. "But—Mr. Raines—" she tried again.

"—is gone." He interrupted. "Out of the picture. And Mr. Parker, well, he'll be joining him soon." There was something conspiratorial about this last that made Riley wonder what he was going to do.

Riley slumped back down into her seat at the table, holding her head in her hands, trying to wrap her mind around the confusion she was feeling.

"I don't think I understand."

He walked over to her side, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder that Riley shirked from out of habit. "I don't expect you to understand _this_." He told her indulgently, and it almost felt patronizing. "I expect you to understand your changing place in the scheme of things Riley. I expect you to _adapt_." He walked back over to his seat, strolled was more the word really, and sat across from her again, the heated anger from moments before burned out of both of them entirely. "Don't you worry though, they'll pay. They will all get _exactly_ what they deserve."

She looked up at him timidly, almost afraid of having her hopes raised again only to be shot down. "How?"

He pushed a manila folder across the wooden tabletop to her and she opened it hesitantly, skimming through the reports without really taking it in. She understood it, to an extent, but the pieces wouldn't quite fit together properly. She had never really known that the chain of command at the Centre had been so convoluted. She looked up at him, questions held in her eyes, after looking over the first page of the file again. "This pretender then, Alex, he... he's going to exact revenge on every person he considers responsible for..." She stopped as Mr. Lyle nodded in affirmation, pausing to think a moment and clear things in her head. "But Sir... it says here that you worked with him, wouldn't that put you at risk?"

"He has bigger fish than me to fry." He wasn't telling her everything, and Riley scowled.

"Be careful." She warned, turning back to the files. This caused him to sit up in his seat and Riley dropped her pretense of being elsewhere engaged.

"Are you ordering _me _around?" He threatened lowly, leaning forward in his seat, and reaching across the table to pull the file away, so that she couldn't ignore him through it. Riley noted the hard line his mouth had formed and the menacing tone of his voice, and responded accordingly.

"No sir. I'm _asking _you not to underestimate him. He has a lot of anger. You can't know where he is going to attack first." She tried to placate him with a more subservient tone, one like she would have used at the Centre. It didn't seem to work, his eyes hardened and he moved back into his own seat. Riley tilted her head down to stare like a guilty five year old at her hands in her lap.

"I know how to take care of myself, Riley." He told her, irritated.

"Well, with all due respect Sir, you'd better." She reached across the table and pulled the file out from underneath his hand. She wasn't trying to be disrespectful, but she was worried. She had already lost him once and it had practically killed her, she wouldn't lose him again. She would be keeping an eye on his back during this assignment whether he liked it or not.

"Just follow through with your part of the assignment and let me worry about Alex once he is out." His tone held a finality to it and Riley knew it wouldn't be any good to press him further. Riley nodded her understanding while skimming again the following pages of the reports.

"So, with Mr. Raines out of commission, and Mr. Parker gone... well that leaves the path to the chairmanship clear for—"

_You._

"I think you understand this better than you recognize, Riley." He told her with a knowing smile.

She looked at him in uncertainty "What's this all about then?"

"Answers."

"And, where is my place in it?" She asked him. She wanted to help, if only he would allow it.

He was playing with the light reflections coming through the liquid of his glass, revolving it slowly on the spot, before he looked up at her again with another cunning smile. It seemed that he had thought of everything.

"Well you see Riley, Alex hasn't escaped _yet._"

-

-

Hours later Riley stepped back out of his apartment, again coming through the back window, and again with more questions than answers. This time though, they were questions she could handle. It was like reaching a goal after miles of running—stopping to find she had evaded the sweepers chasing her, it was like finally winning. Her breath fogged in front of her mouth as she pocketed the small cell phone. His number was on the speed dial now. He said that they would talk later. She now also had a copy of the manila folder he had shown her inside, containing the shift changes and security information for the Triumvirate station in Africa. She couldn't begin to fathom where he might have learned all this from, but it seemed that half of her job had been done for her.

Things were going to be different, but not in the way that she had thought when coming to his house that night. She had expected forgiveness, an offer to reclaim her life, but he'd shown her that she didn't need it. He'd shown her that there was a way of taking more than just what they wanted to give her. And he deserved her loyalty for that. Things were changing in the world, but they would make the change work in their favor. And Alex... well Alex was just a pawn, much as she had been up to that night. She could honestly say now that she didn't envy his position.

Riley Parker walked down the street carrying a black duffel bag, a manila folder, and a plan—her newest assignment. And when she turned to look over her shoulder at his apartment, she could just see the lights going off in his windows.

And so, they would set out to change the world around themselves, but they would only really end up changing themselves, she knew that already. She was good at that—changing, and she would do it again. He was right, whatever the future held, she would change, _adapt, _and she would be ready for it.


End file.
